


From Deliverance to Pizza Delivery

by Dresupi



Series: Quickwintershock Fics [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Meet-Cute, Minor Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Steve Rogers, Multi, Past Darcy Lewis/Ian Boothby, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post Messy Breakup, Praise Kink, Smut, Starting Over, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Work In Progress, eventual polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Darcy's cross-country move/road trip/rediscovering of herself post messy breakup is cut short when her P.O.S car breaks down just outside of a small town that might as well be called Podunk, USA.  But was it really cut short?  Or is this just the beginning of something wonderful?  ~On hiatus, not abandoned~





	1. time is not on our side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [georgiagirlagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiagirlagain/gifts).



> So this was born of a title prompt I received on tumblr from the lovely georgiagirlagain. ;) I've been in the mood to write this ship again for a while. So this was a lovely surprise. 
> 
> I haven't been this inspired in a while, so YAY! 
> 
> Also, this isn't betaed. And it's three in the morning where I live, so all the mistakes are mine. I own them.
> 
>  

The radio was blaring. The wind was in her hair.  The open road stretched before her.  A few cars here and there.  Nothing like the bumper to bumper traffic she’d left behind in NYC. The sun was…kind of in her eyes, but that was a-ok, because she had these big ass sunglasses that made her look like a fashionable insect of some sort and she looked amazing.  

Yes.  Just…YES.  

This was going to be the start of something wonderful.  Darcy could just feel it.  

A quick glance in her rear view mirror revealed no one.  Just the tip tops of the cardboard boxes she’d pilfered from behind the liquor store the day before when she packed up her stuff and the empty expanse of highway that marked what she’d left behind.  She  _ knew _ it would be a great idea to stay off the interstate.  Sure, it was a longer route, but she needed the time to unwind.  To detox from what she’d abandoned: A cheating ex, a dead end job, and a no-account horrible best friend who’d contributed to the aforementioned cheating ex.  

Fuck Ian.  Fuck Lexie.  Fuck both of them.  

She took a deep breath as the anger she’d worked so damn hard to stifle started rearing its ugly head again.  She blinked rapidly to quell the tears.  No tears while driving.  No tears for those two jerks anyway.  

It was just her.  Just her and her Captain Morgan boxes.  And Captain Morgan hadn’t ever done anything to her.  He’d been nothing but supportive when she’d stuffed him full of her CDs and movies and clothes.  Blindly shoving things into boxes haphazardly.  She had a suitcase, but she was pretty sure it was still under the bed at Ian’s.  She didn’t care.  

Darcy felt unburdened for the first time in a long time.  Unburdened by quitting the job that didn’t pay enough so she could afford her own apartment despite having been there since she’d graduated college.  Unburdened by leaving a boyfriend she never felt she could be herself around.  And unburdened by cutting off a so-called best friend who only wanted her to fail.  

Suck it, Lexie.  Suck Ian’s mediocre and slightly sub-par dick.  

There.  She said it.  It was sub-par.  And sub-par wasn’t worth fighting for.  

She just wished she’d had the balls to say something like that to either of them before she left.  But she’d left so quickly that she’d barely had a chance to quit her job, let alone try and work up the courage to talk to  _ them _ .  She’d packed up what she couldn’t live without.  Her cold weather clothing.  Her CD collection.  A couple movies. Photo albums. Her phone.  Laptop.  Chargers. 

She was proud of herself for remembering chargers.  

She hadn’t paid her half of the expenses that month, so she had a nice little chunk of change to start over with.  She’d written Ian a note on the fridge dry-erase board.  It had taken her a few minutes to come up with it, but she was pretty happy with it, nonetheless.  

_ “Goodbye.  Don’t call.  Darce.” _

It wasn’t Shakespeare.  But it got the message across and that was all that mattered.    

She was going to crash on Jane and Thor’s couch once she got to Portland.  She knew she was probably shooting herself in the foot, moving there without a job lined up.  But she just had to get out.  She’d take a job waiting tables if she had to.  She had to get out of New York before she lost her damn mind.  

She was reaching down to turn up the radio once more when everything just…stopped.  

She swore, looking up into her rear-view mirror and seeing to her horror, an 18-wheeler coming up on her six.  And FAST.  

And of course the accelerator wasn’t working.  

“SHIT…shit..shit…Jesus Christ…” she chanted every horrible word she could think of as she guided her car to the shoulder.  And beyond. She kind of moved it past the shoulder and down a steep embankment into a ditch.   _ A-plus shouldering of car, Darce.  A-plus. _

She rolled to a stop as the semi truck blared its horn on its way past her.  

“FUCK YOU TOO, BUDDY!” she yelled, flipping it off.

She sat down, going back to gripping the wheel with both hands, realizing that she had to do something. Had to call someone.  She was in the middle of nowhere.  Straight-up Deliverance-looking country.  She half expected to hear banjo music playing in the distance.  Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she knew what state she was in.  She’d just gotten on this highway because it went west.  

_ What the fuck was I thinking? _

In a complete one-eighty of the praises she’d been singing for her driving route choice just a few minutes before…she began cursing her short-sightedness.  She was going to have to call AAA and give them a location.  She had no fucking idea where she was.  

But thank Steve Jobs, there was an app for that.  At least for the finding-out-what-state-you’re-in part.  

Ohio.  

She was in mother-fucking Ohio.  The state with the most astronauts.  AKA the state so horrible that it made people LITERALLY want to leave the earth.  

She took several deep breaths, attempting to calm herself down, because in all seriousness, being stranded in Ohio by her piece of shit car wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her this week. 

Darcy gulped down her feelings like nasty medicine and called AAA.  

Who of course wanted her to tell exactly where on Highway 20 she was.  So she had to haul her pre-panic-attacky-ass out of the safety of her car and walk down the highway for a few hundred feet to find a mile marker.  Because apparently asking them to kindly drive up and down Highway 20 until they saw her yellow VW Beetle sticking halfway out of a ditch on the westbound side was asking too much.  

By the time she got back to the car, she was shaking.  SHAKING with fear because she was certain she could hear banjos playing in the distance.  Mother-fucking banjos.  How in the actual world something so goofy could sound so fucking creepy was beyond her.  

She got in the car and locked both doors, rolling up the windows completely.  Comfortable temperature or no, she wasn’t letting any weirdo hicks get the jump on her.  No sir.  No pot-bellied, beer swilling, Ohio-living, misogynist jerks were going to get the best of Darcy Lewis.

Darcy was the picture of vigilance.  Which was why the rapping on the roof of her car caught her completely by surprise.  

She jumped a mile…or as far as she could in her with the seat belt buckled tight so no one could just drag her out of it.  

“Whoa…whoa there, ma’am…”  

She looked up into the bright blue eyes of the exact opposite type of man she was expecting. He had longish brown hair, kind of Kurt-Cobain-y…all in his eyes and stuff.  He was wearing one of those wool lined corduroy jackets and a pair of ripped blue jeans.    

“I’m sorry…didn’t mean to scare you…”  He held his hands out in front of him, much in the way he might if she were a rapid grizzly bear.  

“Sorry…” she stammered.  “Are you the…the tow-truck guy?”  

He smiled.  “That’s me.  Bucky Barnes…at your service…Ms…” he trailed off, indicating that she should provide her name.  

“Lewis…Darcy…Darcy Lewis…” she answered.  Did he really say his name was Bucky Barnes?  Maybe her first assumption was correct.  So what if he was good looking and decidedly NOT pot-belled?  He could still be a beer-swilling misogynist jerk.  And he could still try to take advantage of her.  

She reached blindly over to her purse, still in passenger seat.  Her taser was tucked safely inside.  She slung the bag over her shoulder and pulled herself out of the car, using Mr. Barnes’ outstretched hand as a way to steady herself.  

She was surprised when she grabbed not a flesh and blood hand, but a noticeably prosthetic one.  She froze, unsure if she needed to make a comment or not.  If it was worse not to acknowledge the difference than to say something about it.  She honestly hadn’t noticed it before.  Now she was thinking a flurry of thoughts.  Most of them reminding her that a prosthetic arm didn’t mean this guy wasn’t a jerk.  All it meant was that he probably lost a fight with a tractor or something.  

…

She honestly hadn’t noticed the arm.  Most of it was hidden by his jacket.    

…

She felt guilty.  Because he honestly seemed nice.  But didn’t Ted Bundy lure all his victims in with his charm?  

Darcy’s heart beat rapidly and she realized she was still holding his hand.  

He looked down at her hand in his, neither of them moving. “Can I see the keys?” he asked expectantly, and Darcy felt like an idiot.  Holding his hand when he was asking for the keys.   

“Oh.  Right.”  She dug them out of her purse, handing them over. Her rather large fuzzy dice key chain gave him pause, but only a slight one.  She turned back to face his tow-truck for something better to do than to blush like an idiot.  It was fairly nice looking vehicle, given some of the thrown together deals she’d seen in her life.  A silver paint job with the words “Winter Solder” printed on the side.  She did a double take, thinking it said “Winter Soldier”, but on second glance, she realized it was indeed “Winter Solder.”  Interesting name for a towing service. 

He sat down and jammed the key into the ignition, turning the key and shooting her a look of confusion.  “This an accident or car problems?” he asked.  

“Both,” she answered.  “It just stopped while I was driving. There was a semi behind me.  Had to book it over to the shoulder.”  

“It stopped?  Stopped how?  Like the engine died?”  

“Yep.”

“That all?  The engine died?”  

She frowned.  “I’m sorry, is that not enough for you?  I’m sorry I’m not an awesome driver who can still drive a car after the engine dies.”  Her pulse was nearly audible.  She could feel it in her fingertips.  Her face was hot with embarrassment and something else entirely.  She was feeling suddenly like she’d very much like to see her mom.    

He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again and asking calmly, “I just meant…was it just the engine that died or was it everything?  Did the dash and the radio die too?”  

“Oh…” she felt like the human representation of a deflating balloon.  “Yeah.  It was everything.  Radio…dash…everything.”  

“Ah.  So the battery died…”  He climbed back out of the car.  “Wanna hop into the cab up there?  I’ll get this hitched and I’ll have a look at it for you at my shop.  Charge the battery.  Replace it if I need to.”  

“Where’s your shop?” she asked warily.  

“It’s just about eight minutes away or so.  In town.”  

“What town?”  

He snickered.  “Wilden…Wilden, Ohio?”  

She shook her head.  “Never heard of it.”  

“Most people haven’t…I just figured you’d have seen it on the road signs a ways back…” he gestured down the highway in the way she’d come.  “We’ve got a lot of traffic coming through for the folk music festival over in Millerdows.  You’re the second person I’ve towed today.”  

“The second, huh?” She paused for a beat.  “Did you say  _ folk music _ ?”  

“Yeah.  It’s a pretty big deal, so I’ve heard.  Battle of the banjos.”  

“Are you kidding me right now?” she asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.  

“No…” he shook his head.  “No reason to.”  

She huffed out a laugh.  “Sorry.  I knew I heard banjos earlier, but I was so scared I’d wrecked my car in a Deliverance-situation…”  

He chuckled.  “Deliverance, huh?  Nah.  None of that goes on around here.  All the people are pretty nice.  And boring.”    

A silence followed that probably went on for way too long as she stood there, halfway to the passenger side of his car and contemplating if it was safe to get in or not.   

“But…uh…no.  Not here for the banjos.  Never heard of Wilden before.  Sorry…” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at her shoes.  

He shook his head.  “No skin off my nose, ma’am.”  He walked over and pulled open the passenger side door for her and then walked around behind the truck.  

It took him all of ten minutes to pull her out of the ditch and up onto the back of the truck.  

She was staring at the purple air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror when he came back around to the cab, climbing in and dropping her keys on the seat between them.  “You wanna close that?” he asked, gesturing towards the car door still wide open.  

“Oh.  Right.”  She reached over, pulling the door shut, effectively locking her inside the cab with him for at least the next eight minutes.  

“Look…I’m not…I get why you’re all skittish or whatever…but I’m not gonna…I’m not a psycho, okay?” He looked almost desperate.  His eyes widening and his tone seemingly genuine.   

She faltered before answering.  “I—”  

Barnes continued, “I know how hard it is out there for you ladies…I know it’s scary…and everything…I just wanted you to know.  For what its worth…I’m not a psycho.”  

“Okay…”

“And I usually have my partner come out here with me.  She usually helps with all of this…I’m not very friendly.  So I’ve been told…” 

“I mean…I haven’t been the nicest either…” Darcy provided, trying to make the poor guy feel a little better at least.  She was fairly certain he wasn’t going to Norman Bates her or Ted Bundy her.     

He shrugged.  “Wouldn’t expect ya to be.  Moving cross-country and havin’ your car break down like that…”  He sucked his teeth.   

She frowned.  “How do you know I’m moving?”  

“I mean…either that or you’re one helluva drinker.  Ain’t seen that much Captain Morgan in a long time. Plus.  You know.  New York tags.”  

Oh.  Of course.  Duh, Darcy.    

She sighed.  “Yeah, it’s been kind of a shitty week.”  

“Sorry to hear that.”  

She made an indeterminate sound and turned her attention to the scenery passing her by.  “Where’s your partner?” she asked, determined not to let the drive pass in silence.  She owed him that much after thinking he was a serial killer and gawking at his prosthetic arm.  

“She just had a baby…” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.  “Two weeks ago.”  

“Aww.  Well.  Congrats to her.  Boy or a girl?”  

“A boy.  She named him after me.”  

“Oh!” Darcy tried to feign excitement at the thought of another poor soul being stuck with ‘Bucky’ for a name.  “So, Bucky?”  

Bucky chuckled.  “No, no.  That’s a nickname.  She named him James.  They’re gonna call him Jamie.”  

“OH!  Well.  That’s adorable.  And sweet of her to name him after you.”  

“Well, I mean.  She married my best friend.  So, I’m pretty sure he had a little to do with it.”  

“Oh.  Well.  Sure.”  

“Sorry, I’m just…” he grinned.  “Makes me happy, you know?”  

“Of course it does!”  Darcy grinned.  “It should, anyway.”  

They pulled in front of a building just then.  There was a tiny little brick section that looked like it was probably the office and a metal garage part attached.  Bucky backed up into the driveway and got out of the cab, crossing around in time to help Darcy down.  She’d been trying to maneuver an elegant way out but was coming up short.  

He offered her his other hand this time, closing his fingers around hers as she stepped down onto the gravel driveway.  

The sign above the door read ‘B&W Auto’ and there were two pictures in the office, one of Bucky and one of a brown haired woman that Darcy assumed was his partner.  The ‘W’ in B&W Auto.  She squinted at the name, shifting in her vinyl chair to look at the logo on the side of the truck.  Winter Solder. Definitely not the same.   

She’d have to ask, she supposed.  Maybe the tow-truck was a side business or something.  

Bucky was in the garage, having poured her a cup of coffee that tasted way better than it should have, given its origins.  He currently had her little VW off the truck and was under the hood as she sat.  

Upon further perusal of the office, she found a newspaper clipping of a birth announcement.  Steve Rogers and Wanda Maximoff-Rogers were proud to introduce their son, James Grant Rogers.  Context clues told her that Wanda was Bucky’s partner.

There was another clipping that looked like an ad for the shop, and a glossy magazine article talking about a restaurant.  She wasn’t able to really look at it very well, because Bucky came in, wiping his hands on a shop towel and sitting down in the seat behind the desk.  He frowned and clicked around on the computer for a few seconds before sighing heavily.  

Darcy’s stomach sank.  “What is it?”  

“Not the battery.  It’s the alternator…”  

“That sounds…bad.  And expensive…”  

He made a face.  “Kind of…it’s tricky to get to…”  

“Great…” she exhaled loudly, taking another sip of her coffee.  

“And…I don’t have the part in stock…” he said apologetically.  “I don’t stock VW parts.”  

“Of course you don’t…”  

“I can have it here Monday morning.”  

“Monday!?”  She slumped in her seat.  Today was Friday.  So that meant she was spending the weekend in Podunk, USA. Okay.  That was okay. It was…it was…

It was so not okay.  

She burst into tears, setting her cup on his desk and burying her face in her hands.  The weightless feeling she’d been reveling in earlier was gone and all the shit she’d been pushing down came bubbling back up to the surface.  All of it.  Ian.  Lexie.  Her job.  Her move.  Now her car.  All of it.  

She felt his hand move across her back as he wrapped his arm around her in a half-hug kind of thing. 

She turned into it and he let her cry on his shoulder for a good solid minute.  He smelled like motor oil and cologne.  Soap.  Old Spice.  It was comforting.  It was a nice smell.  

She sniffed loudly and leaned back, accepting the tissue he offered her.  “I’m sorry…” she mumbled.  “I’m sorry, it’s just…it’s been…”  

“A shitty week…” he finished for her.  

She nodded.  

“Listen.  If money’s the issue, you can owe me for the repairs.  Pay me when you get to wherever you’re going.”  

“No…I…” she started to object.  

“I really don’t mind…” he insisted.  “And…there’s a nice hotel right within walking distance…the rates are reasonable. Laura…the owner’s wife?  She cooks breakfast every morning.  And next door, there’s this pizza place.  Quicksilver’s?  It’s really good.  I’ve got an in with the owner, just tell them I sent you, okay?”  He still had his arm around her as she stood.  

She stopped.  “Mr.  Barnes…I really can’t accept…”  

“It’s Bucky…” he corrected.  “Mr. Barnes was my father.” 

She snorted.  “Oh my god…what a dorky line.”  It felt good to laugh.    

He smiled.  He had a really nice smile, she was starting to notice.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilden and Millerdows are fictional town names. Not real. Highway 20 is real, though. ;)


	2. no she don't wait for anyone; the stars or the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, we're meeting Pietro in this chapter. I kind of made him a Foodie. I mean. He owns a pizza place. So. I think if _Pietro_ owns a pizza place, he's going to be some kind of pizza and beer connoisseur. Just. Sayin. ;) 
> 
> Also, I kind of leave this on a cliffie, but not to worry. I shouldn't be taking this long of a hiatus anymore. I hope. *fingers crossed*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, because that's how I roll. I'll fix mistakes as I see them.

The hotel actually  _ was _ nice.  The owners, Clint and Laura Barton gave her three nights for the price of two. 

The whole town of Wilden seemed to be situated along one long stretch of road, ironically called ‘Main Street’.  She’d spotted the pizza place Bucky had mentioned on the walk down to the hotel.  

She was clutching a cardboard box of clothes.  Her haphazard packing actually had proved a detriment when she was faced with the reality of staying in Wilden for the weekend.  She’d had to open up her trunk and rummage around until she’d found the box that had her underwear in it.  It even less dignified than it sounded, if that was possible.  

Poor Bucky (not Mr. Barnes, because Mr. Barnes was his father) had to stand there and avert his eyes while she sorted through fistfuls of bras and panties, finally giving up on finding something that matched and grabbing the first three of each that she could find.  She stuffed everything into one of the boxes and turned to walk out of the garage.  He pointed her in the direction of the hotel and despite him repeatedly asking her if she wanted him to show her personally, she set off alone with her sad box of things and her bag slung over her shoulder.  

She passed an ice cream parlor, a bakery, a dry goods store and an honest to god tailoring shop.  The pizza place was right beside the hotel, they actually shared an alleyway.  

The hotel itself, aptly named the Wilden Hotel, was quaint and kind of small.  There were six guest rooms on the ground floor and an apartment upstairs where the Bartons lived with their three children.  

She got to meet each member of the family intimately when she checked in.  

Clint, the father, had Lila, the four-year-old, draped around his shoulders as he made a copy of Darcy’s driver’s license and charged her credit card.  Laura, the mother, was busy shifting two-year-old Nathanial from hip to hip as she explained the breakfast situation, asking Darcy when she preferred to be woken up.  

Darcy was still a little blind-sided by the sheer amount of people in the cramped office, and Cooper Barton was currently tugging on on the box she was holding and trying to see inside, so she agreed to an eight-thirty wake up call for a nine-o’clock breakfast.  

What the hell she was going to do with the rest of her day after that was beyond Darcy’s comprehension.  She supposed Netflix was a viable option.  Maybe she could order a pizza from that pizza place and bring it back here.  She wasn’t going to brag, but she’d been known to consume an entire pizza back in her heyday.  She was sure she could handle one if it was intended to last the whole day. 

While she wasn’t necessarily hurting for money right now, she certainly hadn’t been planning on having to fix her car or stay for a weekend in a hotel, so she would probably do well to curb her spending.  Maybe pizza for dinner tonight and then a trip to the grocery store in the a.m.  Because no matter what Bucky said, she was paying him before she left this town.  No way was she going to move on to the next chapter of her life, owing some mechanic for repairs on her car.  That was definitely not the way to start anew.  

Her stomach dropped a little when she realized that she hadn’t gotten a total from him before she left the garage.  This worried her more than a little. She supposed she could call him at the garage the next morning and request one.  Just so she’d know what she was looking at.    

She followed Clint and Lila down the hallway to her room.  He handed off the key after making sure it fit the lock.  “Give us a call if you need anything at all,” he said with a grin,  

“Anything,” Lila emphasized.  “But only if it’s not gross.  Don’t call us for toilet stuff.”  

Clint rolled his eyes.  “If it’s a plumbing issue, please do call.”  

Darcy laughed, accepting the key and thanking both of them.  

The room was cute.  Flowered bedspreads.  Matching curtains and throw pillows.  She dropped her box on the armchair, turning to take in the rest of her modest digs for the weekend.  There was a writing desk in the corner.  A small television sat atop a chest of drawers.  It was an actual box television like she hadn’t seen in years.  But that didn’t matter.  Laura had assured her that they had wifi, providing her with the password at the desk, so Netflix was good to go.  That little T.V could just take a sigh of relief, because she wasn’t expecting it to perform or anything.  

There were two doors in the room, one by the window, adjacent to the TV, which she assumed was a closet.  And one that led to the bathroom, which was where she went now.  

When she flipped on the light, she saw all the normal fixtures, including a stack of folded towels and washcloths.  She also noted the customary tiny bar of soap and tiny bottle of shampoo, much to her relief, because she’d left practically all of that stuff in her car in her haste to not expose her piles of unmatching panties and bras to Bucky.  She’d grabbed her bag, which had her makeup, wallet, and laptop inside, but had left the little shower basket of toiletries in one of the other boxes. 

She turned off the light as she left, kicking off her shoes and crossing the carpeted floor to her sad little box of stuff.  She sorted out her clothes, refolding them and placing them in the chest of drawers.  Her makeup bag, she placed on the vanity in the bathroom beside the tiny soap and shampoo.  

She laid her bag on the bed and jammed the box back behind the chair.  She couldn’t really take Captain Morgan’s smiling face anymore.  She was ready to hunker down for the night.  With the sun setting off in the distance and casting a golden-orange glow over everything as it disappeared, it looked like the town of Wilden was ready for the same.  

Of course, just as she had situated herself on her bed and pulled out her laptop, her stomach growled.  

That pizza was sounding better and better the more she thought about it.  Of course, it was so damn far away.  (Just next door, but anywhere that wasn’t right beside her on this pink flowered bedspread was too damn far away).

Groaning, Darcy pulled herself up.  She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her wallet.  She almost forgot her room key, but she jammed her foot in the door before it closed, dashing back in to slip it into her pocket before she left.  

She had to pass by the front desk on her way out, Cooper’s blonde head popped up behind it just as she reached the door.  “Where’re you goin’?”  

Laura jumped up from the chair, pulling the kid back from his perch and laughing nervously.  “Cooper, that’s none of our business…”  

Darcy had to chuckle.  She remembered the precocious years of her life.  Somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve.  Before high school had beaten it out of her.  “No, it’s cool.  I don’t mind sharing…I’m just goin’ to get a pizza.”  

“From Quicksilver’s?”  Cooper asked. 

“Yeah…” Darcy frowned.  “Is it still open?” A quick glance at her watch told her it was only half past seven.  But this was a tiny town.  She wouldn’t be surprised if everything was closed already.    

It was Laura’s turn to chuckle.  “Oh I’m sure it is.  Pietro keeps that place open way too late in my opinion.  Wants to make sure the second shifters get a chance to eat on their way home.  He’s usually not out of there until midnight or so…”  

“Second shifters?” Darcy asked before she could stop herself.  Okay, so maybe ALL the curiosity hadn’t left her yet.  

“From the factory,” Laura jutted her thumb over her shoulder vaguely.  “It’s where most of the people here work…Second shift lets out at eleven and the third shift’s usually heading in around ten.”  

Darcy nodded knowingly.  Mostly because her stomach was panging with hunger and she really didn’t want to shoot the breeze about some dumb old factory.  To tell the truth, she was more interested in the owner of the pizza place.  With a name like Pietro, he had to be Italian.  Or something.  She was imagining some older…portly fellow.  Dark hair, a long mustache.  White apron and a chef’s hat.  

_ So…a stereotype.  Lovely, Darce. _

She waved goodbye to Laura and Cooper, crossing her arms over her stomach as she walked briskly next door to the pizza place.  A neon sign flickered slightly, a blue circle with a white lightning bolt.  The name ‘Quicksilver Pizza’ stretched across the logo.  There was a matching decal on the window and a smaller one on the door.  Non-neon, obviously.  She took it to mean the pizza was delivered or at least ready fast.  Kind of a cute way to depict it, in her book.  

A bell over the door jingled as she entered, and she almost turned around and left immediately.  Because there was no one inside.  No one sitting at the formica tables, no one walking on the checkered floor, no one at the cash register in front of the chalkboard menu.  

“I’ll be right with you!” a voice called from where Darcy could only assume was the back.  “Menu’s still current!”  

She looked up at it then, squinting to read the scrawled handwriting.  She assumed the menu must change from day to day, given the chalkboardiness of it.  She was just beginning to decipher the top line when a man appeared.  He had on a blue t-shirt with his name over the left breast pocket, or at least where the left breast pocket  _ would _ be if there was one. “Pietro”, it said.  And while she was sure it wasn’t unheard of for people to swap work shirts, this one was practically tailored to fit his athletic frame, so she was going to assume this was the “Pietro” Laura had told her about.  

And good god almighty, he definitely wasn’t anything like the stereotype she had in her mind.  

He was tall.  Muscular.  Athletic.  He had short blonde hair that looked bleached, if his roots were saying anything about it, and a well-trimmed goatee.  He had deep blue eyes and an accent that wasn’t Italian, but it was definitely something.  

Russian, maybe.  Or Romanian?  

“What can I get for you?”  

All thoughts had flitted right out of her mind the second he’d run out here, skidding to a halt in front of the cash register.  A thin sheen of sweat covering his face and dampening the hair at his temples.  The best she could muster was a highly unattractive, “Uhhhhh…” and a vague gesture at the menu.  

He turned, smirking at the menu board.  “Oh right.  Sorry.  My handwriting…it’s…” he gestured ambiguously with his free hand, the other was currently fishing a pen out of the cup beside the register.  “My business partner usually does the boards.  He’s an artist, so they look amazing when he’s here.  BUT, he just had a baby, so I’m here by myself…not to mention that the rest of my employees are working our booth at the music festival tonight…” He ended on a sigh.  “I’m a little over my head here,” he smiled widely.  The tired smile of someone who was three ticks from done, but who also, inexplicably, loved what they did.  “I can tell you the specials if you’d like…or you can just…make some random order and I’ll try to accommodate you?”  

“Uhhhh…”  It appeared that hearing him speak had not miraculously restored her speech.  Quite the contrary.  

“Are you the new girl?  Ms…uh…Lewis?”  

Her eyebrows shot up.  News certainly traveled fast.  “Yes?”

“Bucky told me about you.”  He clicked his pen and replaced it in the cup.  “Your money’s no good here,” he nodded towards her wallet.  “Just…tell me what you want and I’ll make it.”  

She shook her head, her tongue suddenly springing to life as she babbled quickly , shaking her head.  “No, no…I can pay you.  It’s fine.  I have money to pay you and I have money to pay him…” she shook her head again.  Adamantly.  “Please.  Don’t worry.  I can pay you for whatever.”  

Pietro smirked and shook his head.  “No you can’t.  Because I’m not accepting your money.”  

“You have to.  It’s American currency.”  

“I’m giving you pizza.  A gift.  You would turn down my gift?” He half pouted, looking even more adorable.  “I only want to give you a gift. Consider it the welcome wagon.  Welcome, welcome.”  

She sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll take your smallest, pepperoni pizza.”  

He shot her an incredulous look.  “No you won’t.  Order whatever you want.  I mean it.”  

“That is what I want.  Your smallest, pepperoni pizza.”  

He shook his head. “No.  Come.”  He held out his hand.  

“What?”  

“Come,” he grabbed her hand and walked her around the counter, tugging her back into the kitchen with him.  

“Wait, wait…” Darcy attempted to drag her feet.  “Isn’t this some kind of health code violation?  Shouldn’t I have a hairnet on or something?”  

“Your hair’s up already.  Are you going to call the health department?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling as he washed his hands.    

“I might.”  

He rolled his eyes and walked over to a floured countertop.  He gestured over to the sink where he’d just finished.  “Wash your hands.”  

“What?”  

“Wash your hands.  If you’re going to be in the kitchen, you need to wash your hands.”  

“I’ll just go back out—” she started for the door.  

“Not until you tell me what you want on this…”  He punched into a ball of dough he had in a bowl on the counter before dumping it out.  He began to knead the dough and Darcy could swear she could see veins popping in his forearms.

“I told you…a small pepperoni…”  

“This is a large…and I’m going to put everything on it if you don’t start pointing at things after I get this rolled out.”

He was fast at it.  Kneading and punching and finally stretching the dough. Quite possibly where the restaurant name came from.  Darcy gave in and washed her hands, figuring she could just tip him really REALLY well before she left and that would cover the cost of the pizza.  

Pietro had it on the big wooden pizza paddle thing in a flash, and he scooted down the long counter to the containers of toppings.  He threw the lids off the stainless steel bins so Darcy could see what was inside.  “What do you want on this?”  

“Um.  Sauce?”  she said, feeling her face turn bright red at being put on the spot.  

He grinned, “Right…what kind?”  

A quick glance into the bins revealed a traditional red, two white sauces, pesto, a barbecue sauce and something that looked decidedly…goopier than the others.  She pointed to the red one and Pietro’s shoulders slumped.  “How boring.”  

“Well, what are the others?”  

“Alfredo, Bechemel, Pesto, barbecue and pepper jam.”  

“Yeahhhhh, I’ll take the red one…”  

Pietro scoffed. “Uncultured kretin.”  

Darcy shrugged.  “I just want to make sure I can eat the thing.”  

“Please.  Everything I make is a masterpiece. Everything is delicious.” 

“Pepper Jam, though?  Those are two words that don’t ever need to be put together.”  

“Have you tried it?  It’s delicious on Brie.”  

“You put Brie on pizza?”  

“No.  It’s a soft cheese.  I put Gruyere on the pizza over the jam…” He waved his arm over the pizza.  “And then sausage and sweet peppers…”  

“And that’s good?”  

“It’s  _ delicious _ .” The way he said it…the tone his voice had…a raw edge.  Raspy.  

Darcy had to admit, it sounded good. In more ways than one.  But Gruyere sounded really pricey.  And as much as she wanted to indulge this man who was being so very very nice and helpful…and hot.  Mercy, he was hot.  She really didn’t want to take advantage either.  

“I think I’ll stick with the red sauce…”  

Pietro stared at her, his eyes boring into hers for a moment before he turned abruptly, sniffing and carefully ladling the marinara sauce onto the dough in front of him.  He moved down to sprinkle what looked like mozzarella cheese all over the top of it.  He kept the cheese container open and gestured at the other toppings.  

“Pepperoni…” she began.  He shot her a look.  Nothing scary.  Just a comical eyebrow arch.  “And…” she continued, giggling under his gaze.  

He smirked. “There we go…”  

She ended up with mushrooms, spinach and bacon, which he covered with another layer of shredded cheese. He slid the pizza into the oven (wood burning, thank you very much), propping the wooden paddle thingie up against the wall.  Darcy knew she’d heard the name of that thing at least once in her life, but it wasn’t coming to her.  

“You want something to drink?” he asked, leading her out of the kitchen at to a table in the still empty restaurant.  He even pulled out the chair for her. 

She shrugged.  “Whatever’s fine.”  

He squinted into the cooler behind the counter.  “I’m fresh out of whatever.  But I do have Coca Cola products and a variety of bottled beer.”  

“ _ Coke’s _ fine,” she said, smirking down at her folded hands as her cheeks flushed again.  

She was starting to think there was something weird about this town.  Something that caused all these insanely hot guys to flock to it.  First Bucky, now Pietro.

He plopped a can of Coke down in front of her, taking a swig of water out of the blue bottle in his hand as he sat down in the chair across from her.  “Well.  We have eleven minutes.  Tell me all about yourself, Ms. Lewis.”  

“Darcy…” she said shyly.  “First name’s Darcy.” She wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of talking about herself.  Not now.  Not when she was unemployed and single and moving across the country to sleep on a couch.  

He jutted his thumb into his chest. “Pietro.  Maximoff.”   

Her eyes widened.  “Are you related to Wanda?” she asked, desperately hoping that her years in advertising hadn’t failed her and people still liked talking about themselves more than other people.   

He laughed.  “You know Wanda?” She relaxed a little.  Apparently, she was right.   

“No, no…” she stammered, unable to stop the silly grin from spreading across her face.  “Bucky…uh…Mr. Barnes told me about her.  Congrats on being an uncle, by the way.  I’m going to draw from context clues that your business partner is her husband?”  

Pietro nodded.  “Wow.  Three hours in Wilden and you’re already deciphering the complex inner workings of the social circles.”  

She shrugged.  “Not really.  I mean.  I’ve only met Buck—Mr. Barnes and you and…the Bartons.”  

“You can call him Bucky.  He hates being called Mr. Barnes. Always says its his—”  

“Father’s name? Yeah…he told me that.”  

Pietro rolled his eyes. “He’s a cheesy bastard, but I love him.” 

Darcy had to smile at that.  The way he said it.  The door bells jingled and none other than the cheesy bastard himself strolled in, covered up to his elbows in grease and grinning widely at the two of them as he approached.  “I’m a cheesy what, Piet?”  

“You heard me,” Pietro responded. 

Bucky crossed over towards them, grabbing a handful of Pietro’s shirt and pulling him up for a kiss.  Nothing torrid.  Just a kiss between two people who had been together a decent amount of time.  

It clicked in Darcy’s mind.  Of course they were together.  Bucky telling her he had an ‘in’ with the owner of Quicksilver’s?  She was mildly disappointed, but who was she kidding? She wasn’t going to be here for long enough to start anything with either of them.  In the meantime, she could definitely hang out with what had to be the cutest couple she’d seen in a while.  

“Wash your hands…” Pietro insisted, rising up out of the chair and walking back to the kitchen, presumably to check on the pizza.  

Bucky sighed and looked down at them, eyes widening as if he hadn’t noticed they were covered in black grease.  “Oops, sorry…”  

With both of them gone, she could definitely get her bearings a little bit.  She kind of felt bad for objectifying them.  But she definitely wasn’t going to do it again.  No sir.  

She was, however, going to insist that there would be no more freebies.  Pizza or otherwise.   

Bucky returned first, hands clean and dry when he came back out to the table.  He slid into a chair right beside Darcy.  “What kind of pizza did you get?”  

“Uh…” she stammered again.  “Just like…pepperoni, spinach and mushrooms…and bacon.”  

He hummed.  “Do you mind sharing?  It’s cool if you don’t want to…”  

“No, no…it’s fine.  Please.  Eat some of it.  He made me get a large.”  

He chuckled.  “You know…you’d think I’d be sick of pizza, what with him owning a pizza place.  But nope.  Nothing can fuck with my love.”  

She returned his smile.  “How long have you two been together?”

He pursed his lips in thought.  “Me and pizza?  Since I could eat solids.  Me and Pietro?  Close to three years now.  Been living together for ten months.”  

“Congrats,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine. That it didn’t make her look like a bitter bitch who had recently been cheated on.  Because she felt like a bitter bitch who had recently been cheated on, and she didn’t feel like Bucky or Pietro deserved her bad mood.  

“How ‘bout you?  You got someone?  You driving to meet ‘em?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and leaning forward on his elbows.  

She shook her head. “Nah.  It’s just me.  Gonna go meet my friend Jane in Portland…was supposed to be there Monday…looks more like…Thursday now.”  

“Yeah, sorry about that…about your car.  I’ll have it fixed asap, though.  As soon as the part comes in.”  

“And dude, I’m going to pay you.  Okay?” she reached over to poke his shoulder.  “I’ll pay you in full before I go.  I feel like I kind of misled you earlier.  I have money.  I just…I’ve had a shitty week and it all kind of…closed in on me before.  But don’t worry. Money’s not one of the problems.  I’m good for it, okay?”  

He nodded. “Okay.”  

“Speaking of…do you have a roundabout total for me?  Just so I know how much—”  

“With parts and labor?  About eight hundred fifty.”  

“Dollars?” she asked, aware she was gawking, but she thought she was allowed when a mechanic quoted her a price that high.  

He looked down at his hands.  “The part ran about two hundred…and I’m gonna have to actually rent the tools from the dealership to work on it…but even with that, it’s cheaper than me sending you to the dealership…”  He looked up at her.  “But I can send ya to the dealership if you want?  You can call em tomorrow.”  

Darcy tried to concentrate on steadying her breathing.  It was no use breaking down in tears in the middle of a restaurant.  Her mind raced, trying to figure out how exactly she was going to pay this guy when the bill was running upwards of 3/4 of what she had in her bank account.  And thanks to the retail therapy she’d been treating herself to for the past few months, she didn’t have enough of a balance on her credit card to cover it. Especially not since she was using it to pay for the hotel.  

“Look.  The offer still stands, ma’am.  You can owe me for the repairs.  Pay me when you get to Portland.”  

Pietro appeared at that moment, sliding down a wire rack and plopping the pizza down on top of it.  It smelled heavenly.  And Darcy took advantage of the opportunity to change the subject by reaching for a slice and complimenting Pietro.  He preened slightly, which was adorable.  Apparently, Bucky thought so too, because the subject shifted from her bill on to other things.  

It took the focus off of her long enough so she could start formulating a plan.  

It might very well be a stupid plan…and it might not work out. 

But, Darcy was willing to try it.  She’d try anything to keep up her fresh start.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love it when people are nice. It makes me more productive. True Story.
> 
> Also. The wood pizza tray thingie is called a "peel". ;) just FYI.


	3. and you, you shine like the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the wait, guys! I promise PROMISE i have this on my update list, so I'm going to start trying to update it at LEAST twice a month. PROMISE! 
> 
> This chapter is more of a segway into the main romance plot? Chapter 4 is going to have some Bucky and/or Pietro POV so it SHOULD clear up some of the questions you might have after this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNBETAED. dun dun DUUUUuuuUUUNNN. So plan accordingly. :P

Darcy awoke the next morning with purpose.  It was Saturday, so she wasn’t sure how much of this she could really accomplish today, but she could at least try to get something started.  

She had a list.  A list of things she needed to do before she left Wilden.  

Number one on that list was pay Bucky for her car.  She wasn’t going to leave this town without paying him.  Even if she had to stay longer than the weekend to do it.  She’d been planning on leaving here Monday evening after he fixed her car.  But, if she paid him out of pocket, she wouldn’t have enough money to even cover the gas if she drove nonstop to Portland.  And her credit card was pretty much out of the question since she’d risen to within fifty bucks of her limit paying for the hotel room for three days.  

Of course, if she stayed here  _ longer _ , she was going to have to pay for at least a few more nights in the hotel room.  Which brought her to the second thing on her list:  Find a way to stay here in Wilden until she figured out how to raise the money to pay Bucky.  

So technically, she needed to move that one up to the top of the list.  Otherwise, she’d be staying here a lot longer than she’d previously anticipated. 

The third, of course, was to call Jane and let her know she’d be a little longer than Thursday now. And she’d have to do it without making it look like she needed money.  Because the last thing Thor and Jane needed right now was to scrounge up money to lend Darcy.  Which they would if she let on for a second that she needed it.  

So, she’d just have to make this place sound really cool and amazing and then she’d be able to just fool Jane into thinking she was staying here for the hell of it.  

But.  First things first. 

Darcy hopped in the shower, keeping an eye on the clock because she’d somehow managed to wake up  _ before _ the wake up call.  It was probably that sense of purpose she’d mentioned earlier.  Senses of purpose don’t really mesh with sleeping in.  Just not in the definition.  

Her eight-thirty wake up call was still a half hour away.  

Which gave her plenty of time to shower and look presentable.  

She didn’t want to be late to breakfast, since she was trying to go for the appearance of put together and mature.  So maybe they’d keep giving her that three nights for the price of two discount.  She was kind of banking on it.  Because it would mean she could stay here for nine more nights, which, according to her calculations and projections, would give her just enough time to raise the money for Bucky, to pay back Pietro and to pay for the room, which came with wi-fi, AKA, the major clincher in this whole ordeal anyway.  

She needed the wi-fi so she could set up a few ads on 5iver and do some web design for the rest of the money. 

If Darcy knew one thing about herself, it was that she kicked ASS at web design.  Sure, her last job had advertising in the title, but she’d gone looking for web design jobs when she’d found that one.    

Her portfolio was extensive and impressive.  And if she could book enough small time jobs this week, she could make enough bank to pay all her bills and still have enough to get her to Portland.  

The wifi really  _ was _ the clincher, though.  So she really REALLY was hoping she could convince the Bartons to give her the discount.  

Breakfast went well, and as it turned out, she didn’t need to worry about the discount.  They were so thrilled that she was staying that they threw in another two nights for free as well.  So she was staying for a total of twelve nights (including the ones she’d already booked), but only paying for seven of them.  It was pretty much the best deal in the entire world right now.  And they were going to get a GLOWING Review on Trip Adviser and wherever else they wanted one.  

Laura made pancakes.  A seemingly endless supply of them, along with bacon and eggs.  

The kids were rambunctious, and that was putting it mildly.  But Darcy didn’t get the frazzled vibe from either Laura or Clint.  Both of them seamlessly handled all the stuff the kids figuratively (and sometimes literally) threw at them. Clint talked a mile a minute about the golf game he was finally getting to go play that day, combined with his desire to plant a couple heirloom tomato plants in pots on the front porch.  

Laura was pre-occupied with the amount of traffic she was going to run into while taking Cooper and Lila to their respective soccer games that day.  

And somehow, they had all of these conversations without making Darcy feel like an outsider.  

She really liked the Barton family.  And that was  _ before _ they gave her such an amazing discount.  Their hotel could stand to use some updating, but besides that, they had a really nice little establishment here.  She could tell they were doing fine.  It was likely that music festival going on in wherever-the-hell, Ohio one town over.  She had obviously been the last one down for breakfast that morning.  

“Did you like the pizza over at Quicksilver’s?”  Clint asked.  “I’m not tryin’ to pry, but Laura was tellin’ me you went over there last night?”  

“I  _ did _ ,” Darcy replied, simultaneously declining a fifth pancake.  “It was REALLY good pizza. And coming from a former New Yorker…that’s a helluva compliment.”   

“You know Pietro’s been featured in a couple of magazines?” Clint speared some of his eggs on the end of his fork.  “He’s on the Gourmet Tour Across America or whatever?  I’d say we probably get about 40% of our business from those people.”  

“I’d believe it,” Darcy replied.  “I’d come back for more of that pizza.”    

“Pietro’s not bad either…” Laura intoned with a smirk.  She winked at Darcy as she cleared her plate.  Clint tossed a napkin at her retreating form.  

She could feel the color rising in her cheeks.  “No, he’s definitely not.  He and Bucky are really cute…” she trailed off before deciding a change of subject was in order.  “So you guys are really okay with me staying here for another few nights?”  

Clint thankfully took the bait.  “Oh definitely.  You’re a model guest.  I mean…so far.”  

* * *

 

Darcy went back to her room, resolving to run down to the grocery store after she had set up her 5iver ad.  

Updating her online portfolio took the longest.  She really hadn’t been keeping up with all the little odd jobs she’d been doing for side income over the past few years.  

She finally finished the ad a little before eleven in the a.m, closing her laptop and grabbing her purse.  She needed to go run by the garage before it closed this afternoon too.  She had to get more of her clothes out of the boxes in the back of her car.  So first clothes, then grocery store.  

The walk was pleasant, and she tried not to sneak a peek in at Pietro when she walked by Quicksilver’s.  She  _ really _ tried not to.  

But, of course, her traitorous eyes won the argument.  She did peek inside, glancing through the front window.  He was leaning over the counter, talking to someone else, probably one of his employees as they scribbled specials up on the blackboard.  

And predictably, he just so  _ happened _ to glance out the window, catching her eye as she continued down the sidewalk.  Darcy tried walking just a little faster, but she heard the bell on the door jingle as he opened it and fell into step beside her.  

“Hi Darcy,” he grinned easily, as if he hadn’t been booking it to catch up to her. As if he wasn’t just a tiny bit out of breath.  “Fancy seeing you here.”  

She snorted back a laugh.  “I know right?  Not like I’m stranded here in the  _ slightest _ …”  

“Where are you headed?”  

“Just down to the garage…”  

“Oh?”  

“Yeah, I need to grab some more of my stuff…” she trailed off, debating on whether to tell him or not, and then deciding that he’d figure it out eventually anyway.  “I’m actually…staying for a few more days.”  

He smiled brightly.  “That’s good news…” he trailed off, “Unless it’s not?”  

“No, it totally is.  It means I’ll have the funds to pay back your boyfriend before I leave.  So yay for not owing anyone!”  

“You know Bucky would be fine to let you owe him until you get to where you’re going…”  

Darcy chuckled.  “I know that.   _ But _ , did you ever think that  _ maybe _ I’d rather stay?  You’re not in that big of a hurry to get rid of me, are you?”  

“No, NO!  No, no, definitely not…”  Darcy could swear she saw a red tinge color his cheeks.  “No, I just…didn’t want you to think you were trapped here or anything…”  

“Nah, dude. I like it here.  It’s nice.  Quiet.  Not a lot of people…really refreshing after living in New York for four years.”  

He tilted his head slightly so he could look down at her.  “Well…you know…if you’re staying…you should really let me and Bucky cook dinner for you once…”  

“That sounds amazing, but you kind of already cooked dinner for me last night.”  

Pietro scoffed.  “That was pizza.  You should…you know…come over one night next week if you can.  I’m off on Wednesdays.”  

“Maybe you should run that by Bucky first, right?” she poked him with her elbow.  Just playfully.  Not because she wanted to see what that bicep was made out of.  No way.   

_ He’s not interested.  He’s just being nice.  Don’t be gross, Darcy.   _

“I’m pretty sure he’ll be fine with it….” Pietro said with a smirk.  A smirk that felt like it meant something more than Darcy was able to ascertain.  A smirk that was probably just a smirk.  She was getting her hormones all in a bunch because some nice-looking guy was treating her decently.  This was toxic masculinity at its worst.  When she couldn’t figure out if a guy who’d presented himself as totally gay and IN A RELATIONSHIP was flirting with her or just being nice.  

_ He’s just being nice! _

“I mean…I don’t wanna put anybody out…”  

“You wouldn’t be.”  

She shrugged, “Well, I mean…if Bucky says it’s okay…” She gestured towards the garage where they were headed.  

“He will…”  Pietro said with another one of those cryptic smirks. 

They approached the door and Pietro motioned towards it, implying that she should knock.  Like he was here as  _ her _ guest or something.  

Bucky looked up from his computer towards them, his face brightening considerably.  Darcy assumed it was Pietro’s presence.  They really were the most adorable couple she’d seen in a while.  

He waved them in and stood up when they entered, sending a pile of papers fluttering to the floor and causing Pietro to snicker under his breath as he knelt to help him pick them up.  

Darcy knelt too, handing him the forms and trying not to look at them as Bucky stuffed them haphazardly into a folder.  They all stood and waited as Bucky deposited the folder safely on his desk, leaning back against it before he spoke.  “What can I do you ?” He looked between them questioningly before directing his attention to Darcy.  

She glanced over at Pietro, who suddenly made himself scarce, walking back into another part of the office, closing a door behind him to wait.  

“Right, listen…about my bill.  I want to pay you in full before I leave.”  Darcy pushed her hair back out of her face, wishing for a hair elastic as she glanced down at the floor to avoid gazing into Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes.  

Seriously, the two of them were gorgeous.  Blue-eyed specimens, the both of them.  

“Look, I know you don’t want to owe me anything, but it’s really not that big of a deal…” Bucky started in again with his spiel about how she could owe him and just send him payments in the mail once she got to Portland. Or even on Paypal, if she’d rather.    

She waited patiently for him to finish before she continued.  “I have a plan.  It involves me staying for a few extra days here in Wilden.  And I might have to leave the car here for the week before I come pick it up…”  Darcy pulled out her phone to check the dates, pushing her hair back yet again.  “I can get it next Tuesday…not this coming, but the one after…is that okay, or do I need to pay extra for keeping it here?”  

“You don’t have to keep it here until you can pay me back, you can just…take it and pay me when—”  

“No.  I’m not doing that.  Not taking it until I can pay you. Got it, Slick?”  

Bucky sighed and folded his arms, a smile pulling at his lips.  “You’re kinda stubborn, you know that?”  

She shrugged.  “I might have heard that somewhere before.”  She felt a brushing at the side of her face that she realized was Bucky’s hand.  The flesh and blood one.  His hand was gently tucking loose strands of her hair behind her ear.  She froze.

So did he, yanking his hand back and folding it beneath the other one across his chest.    

“I’m sure you have.  Not that it’s a bad thing…”  Bucky answered quickly, the words tumbling out.   “That’s fine, though.  I’ll lock it up in the yard overnight, space isn’t really at a premium, so, pick it up when you’re ready.” 

She had to kind of still her beating heart and compose herself to answer him.  “Awesome…  Think I could get some more of my stuff from the trunk?” Darcy asked.  

“Of course!”  Bucky reached into a lock box to pull out her key.  “It’s in the garage…” He handed her the key and walked her out to the vehicle.  “So…what’s Piet doing with ya?”  

She guess they weren’t ever going to mention the fact that he’d brushed her hair out of her face.  That was fine with her, she didn’t know how to deal with that anyway.  It was better this way.  

“I don’t really know?” she laughed.  “He followed me here.”  

“Yeah…he does that.”  

“I was  _ actually _ inviting her over for dinner on Wednesday…”  Pietro said, appearing suddenly behind them.  

“Oh?” Bucky raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of them.  “Oh!  Oh, wow…did you accept?”  

Darcy escaped for a moment by ducking into the back of her car, tossing as many of her clothes into a box as she could.  She also pulled out her toiletry bag, tucking it into the top of the box before closing the lid.  She tried to school her features as she straightened again.  “I was going to make sure it was going to be alright with you first…before I—”  

“Yeah, it’s fine,”  he answered quickly.  Very quickly.  And did she sense a touch of eagerness in his tone? Maybe?  Or was it just wishful thinking?  

_ Yes.  It’s wishful thinking.  They’re being nice.  Your hair was in your face. You probably look like a Debbie Downer, so they’re trying to be nice to you.  Stop reading so much into stuff, Darce.  Jeez.   _

“Oh!” she said, shifting the box of clothing to her hip and locking the car door.  She tossed the key in his direction.  “Okay.  I guess we’re on for Wednesday, then?”  

Pietro was practically bouncing up and down.  “What do you want for dinner?  Do you have any food allergies?”

She shrugged.  “Just shellfish?”  

“Alright, so crab cakes are out…”  

“You don’t have to go to any trouble, I promise…” she said with a nervous laugh.  “I’m pretty easy to please.”  Bucky coughed and then ran his hand through his hair, mumbled something she couldn’t hear and turned to leave the garage.  She frowned and hefted the box up again.  “Was it something I said?” she asked to fill the silence. 

“No, he’s just…” Pietro shrugged.  “He’s no good with people.”  

Or maybe this was just her old friend self-esteem, shrinking back into his corner all dejected and forlorn thanks to Ian the Terrible and Lexie, the world’s worst best friend. Maybe she just needed to chill and stop reading into everything so damn much.  

Besides, she couldn’t worry about this.  She was only going to be here for the next few days.  She wasn’t here to make friends.  She was going to hunker down in her hotel room and code and design web pages until her fingers bled.  And she was going to pay her hotel bill and pay for her car repairs.  And then she was going to leave.  Drive to Portland and start her new life.   

“I should…go?”  She said, inferring that Pietro was going to follow his boyfriend at some point.  

He took a few steps towards her, taking the box from her arms.  “I’ll go with you, it’s on my way…just…wait just a second, okay?”  

She nodded, and he disappeared into the office.  She walked out the open garage door into the sunlight, not wanting to gawk at the window while Pietro said goodbye to Bucky.  

Everything had been going just fine until she freaked out about Bucky tucking her hair.  She really was a spaz who needed a fucking chill pill.  Honestly.  Who freaks out about a guy tucking her hair?  She just needed to take a deep breath and calm down before Wednesday.  Bucky and Pietro were really nice guys.  Nice guys who were offering to cook her dinner.  She couldn’t afford to burn any bridges by being stupid.  So, she’d go to dinner.  Then she’d mind her own business until she had the money to pay Bucky.  

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  

Besides her awkward blunder, things really were shaping up like she’d hoped.  Her list was working.  Her list was a good list.  

Sense of purpose fulfilled.  Mostly.  

She still had to go to the grocery store.    


	4. and you will kiss me before this day is done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EEE, I'm finally updating this!!! 
> 
> And I can LEGIT promise not to do this again, because I have a chapter buffer! And a final chapter count! YAY! 
> 
> Also, I changed the chapter titles to lyrics from Jess Penner's "Sweeter". 
> 
> Anywho, this chapter is in Pietro's POV, and he's an adorable nervous puppy because of the date he and Bucky asked Darcy on. <3 
> 
> I'm going to try for weekly updates from now until this is finished. <3 For now, ENJOY!
> 
> Note: I'm going to draw your attention to something from Chapter 1 (I know it's been months since I've updated, so I wanted to remind you of Bucky's tow truck, with the 'Winter SOLDER' logo on it. [not a typo, actually a plot thingie]) Anywho, that gets explained in this chapter! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to leftennant, georgiagirlagain, amidtheflowers, bloomsoftly and hollyspacey, who helped me come up with a bunch of this cuteness for this chapter! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> ENJOY, GUYS! <3

Wednesday had arrived more quickly than he’d imagined it would.  

He was supposed to be off for the entire day, but as “luck” (and being a restaurant owner, he had more of this type of luck than the average person) would have it, the lunch shift cook was running late.  He lived two towns over and had unfortunately run into an issue with his babysitter.  

So Pietro had peeled himself out of bed (a difficult task when it was occupied by a mostly nude Bucky) and headed down to Quicksilver’s to take his place for a couple of hours.  

By now, the lunch rush was pretty much over, but there was still no sign of his cook.  

Normally, he’d be annoyed, but it was giving him time to NOT think about Darcy coming over that night.  He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. If  _ they’d _ made a mistake.  

Bucky and he had discussed the prospect of dating Darcy.  They’d discussed it at length.  And they’d both been interested.  Separately.  And together, they’d been interested.  It seemed like the perfect decision.  

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d rushed it.  

She’d been conflicted.  He’d seen it in her eyes.  Maybe she wasn’t sure.  Maybe the prospect of them both was too much.  

Maybe they were coming on too strong.  

It had been  _ so long _ since he and Bucky had felt that stir of feelings for someone else...and when it both happened for them with the same person...well…

They’d jumped on it.  Even if she wasn’t sticking around.  Even if she would be gone in a few days.  It was worth it just to spend time with her.  

He just hoped that they hadn’t scared her off.  

Pietro kept expecting to get a call from Bucky telling him that Darcy had cancelled.  

But that call never happened.  

And the last lunch customers were filtering out of the dining room.  His cashiers were wiping down tables.   

Pietro swallowed his nerves and took advantage of the lull to give Bucky a call.  

If Pietro was going to be heading home around five p.m like it  _ appeared _ he was going to be, it would be a tremendous help for Bucky to stop at the grocery store and pick up a few things.  

Bucky answered on the second ring.  “I’m already at the store, I was just about to call you.”  

Pietro had to smile at that. They knew each other so well.  “Have I told you lately that I love you?”  

“Only about twice this morning -- would have been three, but you had to go to work -- tell me what you need, Pietro.”  

Pietro let out a sigh, his stomach already dissolving into nervous butterflies.  “Steak…”  

“What kind?”  

“Filets…”  

He rattled off the list of ingredients.  Yellow Squash, Red potatoes, goat cheese, baby greens and champagne vinegar.  Salad onions.  His mind was still racing around the bases of ‘did I come on too strong?” when Bucky stopped him to ask a question.  

“Red onions or green onions?  They have both.”  

Pietro blinked, his vision clouding a little as he answered hastily.  “Does it matter?  I don’t know.  What do you think?”  

Bucky paused, Pietro heard him suck in a breath.  “Green onions.  I’ll get the green ones.”  

“Fine.”  

“Piet?  Are you--?”  

“No.  I’m not okay.  Do you think we came on too strong?”  

“What? When? With Darcy?”  

“Yes.  With Darcy.  The reason you’re at the store.  The reason I’m...I’m making dinner, the reason I  _ thought _ we were both nervous and out of our minds…”  

“Calm  _ down _ . I knew that’s what you were talkin’ about, I was trying to be blase and keep you from flying off the handle.  Which apparently went  _ dazzlingly _ well…”  Bucky sighed and Pietro could just see him pinching the bridge of his nose in the middle of produce.  

“I am still  _ on _ the handle,” Pietro countered.  “I am straddling the handle.  This handle wishes it could buck me off.”  

A soft chuckle ensued and Bucky continued.  “Honestly?  Piet? I think it was fine.  I think she likes both of us, and I  _ don’t  _ think she’d be coming over tonight if she didn’t.” 

“Is she though?  Have you heard from her?”  

“Yes.  Actually.  She called me to ask if she should bring anything.”  

“What did you say?”  

“I told her I was at the store and I wasn’t sure what you were making, so I’d have to call her back.”  

“You talked to her right before I called you and you didn’t say anything?”  

“I was planning on it.  When the subject arose naturally.”  

“What are you going to say to her?”  

“Uh...a red, I guess. Unless you have another suggestion?”  

Pietro paused for a moment, letting the words sink in.  “Just tell her she doesn’t have to bring anything but herself.”  

“It might make her more comfortable to bring something…”  Bucky reminded him.  

“Oh.  Right…”  Pietro nodded, even though it was a phone conversation and no one could actually see him.  

“So a red?”  

“A red.  Yes.  A red is fine.”  

“Okay...just...let’s calm down, okay?  She sounded excited.”  

“She did? How did her voice sound, mimic it for me.”  

“No, no.  No, I’m not doing that. But  _ yes _ .  She did sound excited.  I think...I think it’s going to be fun.  Okay?”  

He nodded again. 

“Are you nodding your head?  Because we’re on the phone, genius.”  

Pietro chuckled.  “Okay.  Okay...”  

“There’s no reason why she wouldn’t like us.  We’re very pleasant people.  And if you’re making filets, there’s no question. Those things melt in your mouth.”  

“You think so?  You don’t think I scared her?”  

“Not unless scared people keep their engagements with the ones who scared them. Because she is definitely coming and I am going to call her back and tell her to bring a red.  So she’ll be at our place at seven.  With a bottle of red.”  

“With a bottle of red.”  

“Yep.  And you’ll be adorable with your nervous cooking and that blue shirt you hung up on the closet door…”  

“I hung that up for  _ you _ . I’m wearing the black one.”  

“Bull. I’m wearing the black one.  The blue brings out your eyes.”  

“It brings out  _ your _ eyes.”  

“Whatever.  You’ll be adorably nervous.  I’ll be handsome as hell in that black shirt…”  

“Blue shirt.”  

“Shhh.  And we’ll ask her if she wants to like...join us.  While she’s here.”  

That.  That was the part that was making Pietro nervous.  And judging by the quiver in Bucky’s voice, it was making  _ him _ nervous too.  

“What if she doesn’t?” Pietro’s voice was softer as he gazed out the front window of the restaurant.   

“Then.  She doesn’t.  But for what it’s worth, I think she does.”  

“For what it’s worth, I hope you’re right.”  

* * *

 

The dinner wasn’t too difficult to prepare.  He’d labored intensively over the menu.  He wanted to impress her, but he also didn’t want to be in the kitchen all night.  

His famous filet mignon was an obvious choice, but he hadn’t wanted anything too flashy to over power his main course.  

The squash and potato au gratin was quick and easy, but also kind of a beautiful dish.  To look at.  And to eat.  Because who didn’t like goat cheese?   

He rounded it out with a simple green salad.  He really wished Bucky had gotten the red onions.  Just for a little more color, he couldn’t even see the green onions against the greens.  But there wasn’t any way he was going to make a big deal of it now.  Not after he’d apparently ‘flown off the handle’ earlier.  He was staying resolutely ON the handle.   

He opted to chop them up a little finer and throw them in the dressing.  

Pietro even made some garlic butter knots out of some of the pizza dough he’d brought home from the restaurant.  It was kind of a last minute addition, but Bucky, in his infinite wisdom, pointed out that there was nothing for him to clean his plate with.  

Pietro’s suggestion that he use his fork wasn’t well received, hence the garlic butter knots.    

Bucky’s nervousness had attached itself to his normally neat-freak tendencies, and he was currently giving their apartment the third combing over that day.  He was dusting all of his artwork and commenting for the upteenth time that they should just dump some of it in storage.    

Pietro attributed the neatness to Bucky’s being an army veteran.  He attributed the nervous cleaning to something else entirely.  

“Don’t you dare move a single piece of that, I’m in love with all of them,” Pietro called over his shoulder.  

“Yeah, well, I don’t DO it anymore, so maybe it’s just sad having them in here…”  

The soldering had been the reason Pietro MET Bucky.  At an art fair nearby.  Bucky bought pizza from Pietro’s food truck, and Pietro had used most of his earnings to purchase a beautiful sculpture of Bucky’s.  

A sculpture that now sat in the front window of Quicksilver’s.  

A sculpture that meant the world to Pietro, just as each of the smaller works that found their way into their apartment did.  

“Do they make  _ you _ sad?”  he asked instead.  Bucky hadn’t created anything new in a while.  Not since the body shop work had been picking up.  Wanda had been chomping at the bit to get Bucky’s tow truck repainted with the shop’s logo, but Pietro had been holding her back.  

Winter Solder was just as much a part of Bucky as B&W Auto was.  Or maybe Pietro wasn’t ready to let go of that part of their lives just yet either.    

Bucky shook his head. “No, but I feel like it’s a little pretentious. I’m a mechanic.”  

“Yeah?  Well I’m a restaurateur.  I can afford to be a little pretentious.”  

Bucky snorted out a derisive laugh, but dropped the matter. 

Pietro glanced over at the clock and realized that there was a scant twenty minutes before Darcy was supposed to arrive.  He had the steaks marinating, they’d only take a few minutes to cook.  

Unless Darcy wanted hers well done.  In which case, he didn’t know if he could even begin a relationship with her if she wanted him to cook this beautiful piece of meat to anything past medium rare.  

Her toothy grin and bright blue eyes flashed before his eyes and he knew there was no culinary faux pas she could commit that would cause him to cut this evening short. 

The timer beeped on the au gratin, which he pulled out, smirking when he saw how perfectly cooked it was.  Golden brown and bubbly. 

He turned off the oven and placed the dish on the trivet on the counter to cool.  

Making his way back to the bedroom, he grabbed his shirt from the hanger over the door.  The blue one.  Because Bucky had insisted.  He pulled it over his head, straightening it over the white undershirt he had on underneath.  

His hair was still damp, but it would mostly likely be dry by the time Darcy arrived.  If she got here on time.  She might be a few minutes late.  

_ Fashionably late. _  It wasn’t something Pietro really understood, if he wanted to be somewhere, he got there on time.  But to each their own, he supposed.  And still hoped she’d be there on time.  The suspense was killing him.  

Bucky appeared from the living room, carrying a basket of laundry past Pietro into the bedroom.  “See?  I told you that shirt would look better on you.”  

Pietro smirked and rolled his eyes.  “Yes.  You were right.  Keep rubbing it in, why don’t you?”  

Bucky must have thrown the laundry basket, because his arms were around Pietro in a split second.  “I don’t have time to rub anything in, but I can hug it in.”  

He laughed and wrapped his arms around Bucky.  “This is so much easier with you here.”  

“Right? Dating’s a lot easier if you have someone to be nervous with.”  His lips pressed softly against Pietro’s, taking his breath and his nervousness right with it.  

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.  Both of them jumped.  

Bucky smirked and kissed him again.  “Show time, babe.”  

“Good luck.”  

“Same to you.”  Bucky reached for the bedroom door, pulling it closed behind them.  “Did you want to get the door?”  

“I don’t...should we both?  Or would that be overwhelming?” Pietro asked, chewing on his bottom lip. 

From the way Bucky was raising his eyebrows, Pietro had already hit the overwhelming mark.  And surpassed it.  “Why don’t you take care of the steak?  And I’ll take care of the door?”  

“Sounds good.”  

“Good.  I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”   

Pietro snorted in mock disdain, but secretly, he was glad Bucky was answering the door.  He was still really REALLY nervous.  

* * *

 

Darcy seemed pretty comfortable.  At ease.  She smiled a lot.  Which was nice.  She had a great smile.  

A really great smile.  

And when she focused it on him, he found himself a little bit lacking in the things necessary to ‘be cool’ as Bucky had instructed him before he’d opened the front door to greet her.

She gushed about the art.  Even more so when she found out it was all something Bucky had created.  And Pietro got to do his favorite thing ever and watch his adorable boyfriend blush and grin and talk about his work.  

Of course, then they’d all sat down for dinner and that pressing desire to make everything perfect returned.    

Pietro just had to do something.  Refill her salad bowl or her water glass. Or ask her if everything tasted fine.  Readjust his legs beneath their smaller than usual dining table.  

Seriously, this thing seemed like the perfect size when he and Bucky had picked it out upon moving into their apartment.  

But now? It seemed miniscule.  And shrinking ever-smaller.  Making him nudge her foot with his accidentally.  Making the positioning of the plates slightly awkward when he’d been trying to set the table.  

It was a weird thing.  Table settings. Especially when they were trying to convey nonchalance and openness, while still maintaining a sense of inclusion and togetherness.  In short, they both wanted to sit beside Darcy, but they didn’t want to trap her against the wall.  So Pietro was back against the wall, with Darcy on his left, with her back to the kitchen.  Bucky was on her left in his usual spot.  

It was a claustrophobic situation.  Especially when he kept having to get up to adjust something.  Or refill something.  

His chair kept hitting the wall behind him.  

He must have been laying it on a little thick, because Bucky grabbed his arm and tugged gently, jutting his chin over his shoulder towards the kitchen behind him.    

“Darce brought some wine, we should probably go open it.  Let it  _ breathe _ ?”  

Pietro nodded and Bucky excused the both of them.  He rummaged in one of the drawers for the corkscrew.  “That was rude.”  

Bucky shot him a look of someone who had been patient for far too long and was over it.  “Well, I had to do somethin’!  You gonna cut her meat for her too?”  

Pietro jammed the corkscrew into the cork and twisted.  “Do you...do you think I should offer?”  

Bucky shook his head.  “I think you should sit on your hands.”  

Exhaling, Pietro popped the cork on the wine and grabbed three glasses from the cupboard, grumbling under his breath.  “I know what YOU can sit on…”  

“Doesn’t that have to breathe?”  Bucky asked with a smirk.  

“It can breathe at the table,” he hissed.   

He set the bottle down in the middle of the table, the glasses alongside it as they both returned to their chairs.  

Something brushed his arm and he looked down to see Darcy nudging her plate towards him, an expectant look on her face.  “I thought you were gonna cut this for me?” 

His cheeks reddened, and he caught her gaze, which was thankfully mirthful, so he grinned back at her.  

She shrugged noncommittally, returning the grin. Making the best of the fact that she’d obviously overheard their not-so-quiet kitchen conversation.    

“I...uh...I’m supposed to sit on my hands.  Maybe Bucky can cut it for you?” He glanced over at Bucky, who was choking back laughter.  

He coughed once, actually choking for a moment, before glancing back and forth between them and reaching for the plate.  

Darcy dabbed primly at her mouth with her napkin before folding her hands in mock patience as Bucky meticulously cut her steak for her, blushing and shaking his head the entire time.  

Darcy cleared her throat a couple of times before speaking.  “Uh...okay...so please don’t take this the wrong way...but...this…” she gestured around at the three of them at the table. “This kind of feels like a date.  Is this a date?  I’ve been trying to figure it out all week…” 

Bucky sputtered, placing the knife and fork down on the plate momentarily.  

Pietro was a little gobsmacked, because of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, it wasn’t this.  

She continued, “...and I mean, if that’s totally gross of me to even ask, I apologize...I really do.  I’m--”  

“No, no…” Pietro began, answering the second part of her statement instead of the first and making her blanch as white as the tablecloth.  “That is to say, no, it’s not gross…because...it  _ is _ a date.”  

She exhaled loudly, her hand coming to rest on her chest as she sighed in relief.  “Oh thank god…”  

Bucky picked up the knife and fork again, resuming the slicing of Darcy’s steak.  “He was freaking out about this date all week.  And you didn’t even know it was a date.  That’s...that’s  _ fantastic _ .”  

Pietro scoffed. “I was NOT freaking out.”  

“He was.  He was worried we came on too strong.  Looks like we came on too weak.”  Bucky smirked and crossed the knife and fork on Darcy’s plate, sliding it back across the table.  He turned to look at her.  “This is absolutely a date, doll.  We both think you’re a peach. And we really like peaches.”  

Pietro stammered.  “That’s not...not to say that we expect...anything more than...than this.  We...um.  We know you’re leaving in a few days, but...uh...we’d like to spend time with you.  Romantically.”  

Darcy bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning.  It didn’t really work, she grinned anyway, dimples popping on her cheeks as she looked down at the plate in front of her.  “I think that sounds...really fun.”  

“Contrary to how Pietro is acting here...we  _ are _ a lot of fun.”  

“I can see that…” she glanced back and forth between them before spearing some of the squash and potatoes onto her fork.  “And this is really good, by the way?  I’m going to be expecting food this good every time you cook, Piet.”  

Pietro chuckled and leaned forward on his arm.  “It’s  _ always _ this good.” 

Blushing, she giggled a little as she stuffed her fork into her mouth.  

Bucky picked up his cutlery to resume eating.  “And I guess I’m the designated food-cutter now.  Want me to butter your roll or something while I’m here?”  

Darcy chortled and reached for the wine bottle.  “I think this is breathy enough.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxo! Show me some love! <3 <3 <3


	5. isn't it much better when we decide to stick together?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Chapter 5! A week after Chapter 4! WOO! Go me! 
> 
> Ian makes a kind of reappearance in this chapter, but don't worry. He won't be around for long. 
> 
> And there's kissy face and feelings and omg.

Darcy couldn’t stop smiling.  She was hugging her pillow close to her chest and grinning like a fool up at the hotel room ceiling.  

Her phone was lying almost forgotten on her side table and the sun was streaming in through the window.  

And she absolutely could not stop smiling.

It one-hundred-percent had to do with those two adorable dorks and their filet mignon and out-of-breath wine the night before.  

It had been a while since she had this feeling.  This euphoric, twitterpated feeling.  That wonderful feeling where she couldn’t stop thinking about someone.  Two someones, in this case.  

The entire evening had been all kinds of perfect.  

There had been a movie after dinner.  A movie and...couch cuddling.  

Bucky had slipped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her close and she kind of just went with it, somehow ending up on both of their laps and not on the couch at all.  Her legs were curled in Pietro’s lap and her head was pillowed by Bucky’s chest. 

But she was getting ahead of herself.  Before any of that...before the flippy-floppy couch cuddles and perfection that rounded out the evening, she helped them clean up.   

Bucky’s prosthetic arm had come off right after dinner, which wasn’t weird in and of itself.  But he had removed it in a flourish of fanciness when Pietro was clearing the table.  

All because the latter had asked him for a hand.  So,  _ naturally _ , Bucky gave him the whole arm.  

Darcy had choked into what was left of her wine and Pietro had rolled his eyes, setting the arm down on the countertop between the kitchen and the dining area.  “Do not encourage him.  He does this  _ daily _ ,” he said with a sigh that belayed exactly how much he’d been put upon by his boyfriend.  

Bucky simply shrugged.  “You asked for a hand.  I’m just being helpful, Piet.”  

Darcy edged her way between them to help load the dishwasher, amid their protestations.  Because it was a two person job, apparently.    

But hell if she was going to sit to the side and watch them do all the work.  

And then finally.  Couch cuddles had happened. 

A movie was suggested.  A movie that Darcy would be hard pressed to remember the name of.  She was too caught up in their mingling scents and body heat to be concerned with such minutiae.  

Pietro’s fingers were stroking delicately along the length of her thigh.  Bucky’s moved between her arm and Pietro’s.  She’d bet cash money that none of them could remember so much as a vague plot point from the movie. 

Hell, she wasn’t even sure there were  _ people _ in it.  It might have been animated.   

Of course, then the movie had ended.  Far too soon for her tastes.  She was going to recommend ‘Gone with the Wind’ next time.   

She was gathering up her stuff, making her way to the door...  

And Pietro had the bright idea that they walk her back to her hotel.

And while she wasn’t creeped out at all by Wilden at night, she was totally on board with his idea because they were so adorable and she didn’t want the evening to end.  

Of course, the thought of having sex with both of them sort of made her brain melt, so the logical step was for her to go back to the hotel.  

Even though they’d have probably been fine with her sleeping over.  And actually sleeping.  

It just was a boundary they hadn’t quite reached yet.  

Especially since kissing didn’t happen until they arrived at her door.  

They stood there, awkwardly saying goodnight until Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.  Soft at first, but steadily firming up as his hand slid up to cup the back of her head.  

Her head was still spinning when Pietro leaned in and absolutely stole her breath.  His lips parted slightly and pulled at hers when he released her, causing Darcy to start to clumsily follow him.  

He smiled, glancing over at Bucky.  

“I had a great time,” she repeated, reaching into her pocket for her room key.  

“Us too,”  Bucky reached over to brush her hair out of her face.  Pietro squeezed her hand as they backed up.  

“Come have lunch at Quicksilver’s tomorrow?”  Pietro asked.  

She nodded.  “I’ll be there.”  

And then she’d come inside and slid down onto the bed to hug herself happily…

* * *

 

 

Which was where she still was.  At ten a.m the next morning.  

She’d groaned into the phone when she’d gotten her wakeup call, hanging up and rolling back over for a few more hours’ sleep. 

And now she was trying to work up the umph to go take a shower.  Maybe get a little bit of work in before she went to lunch.  

The shower finally happened, a seemingly permanent grin stuck on her face while she watched the soap and shampoo bubbles go down the drain.  

Work never happened, though.  Because her phone was ringing when she stepped out of the shower.  

And the blind bat that she was without her glasses or contact lenses, she picked it up without thinking.  

Only to be treated to Ian’s special British brand of whining on the other end.  

What was it the Brits called it?  Whinging?  

Yep.  He was totally whinging.  Totally.  

Because, you see, she’d up and left without paying her share of the rent and now he was up shit creek without a paddle.

She waited until he’d stopped crying like a stuck pig before she attempted to offer up a solution.  “Why don’t you just ask Lexie to move in?”  

And that started another flurry of belly-aching.  Because apparently the only thing interesting about Ian was that he was Darcy’s.  And once he wasn’t Darcy’s anymore, Lexie moved on.  And quick.  

It was sort of comical.  

Even if she’d kind of hoped they’d make each other miserable a little bit longer before it ended.  

“So cut the shit, Darce, when are you coming home?” he asked.   

She snorted.  “Oh my god, I’m  _ so _ not.”

He made this little sound.  A high pitched squawk of indignation.  He sounded like a very put upon hawkling or something.  “Your things are still here.”  

“I took the important stuff.  You can sell the rest of it.  Or throw it out.  Whatever.”  

“I could bring it to you.  Where you are?” he offered.  “Are you in Portland with Jane?” 

“I’m nowhere you need to know about,” she said shortly.  Her clipped tone hopefully signifying the near end of this conversation.  

“Darcy...Lexie’s gone.  It’s over.  It didn’t mean anything--” 

“And neither did we,” she said definitively. 

He started to say something else, but she cut him off, never more thrilled with her decision to have her own cell phone plan.  Single.  On her own.  Meaning Ian didn’t have access.  “Goodbye, Ian.  Don’t call again.”   She ended the call with more force than was probably necessary on her iPhone’s touch screen.  

But she didn’t really care about that right then. 

Because she could just tell he was someone who would try to use the gps to locate her whereabouts.  And show up unannounced to win her back.  

And honestly?  There was no contest.  

She’d rather be alone than with that douchebag.  

Plus, she didn’t need him checking out her temporary squeezes.  Squeezes.  Plural.  Ha. 

Pietro and Bucky were….grade A, blue eyed, hunky specimens alright.  Even on a temporary basis.  

_ Temporary. _

That word kept echoing in her head.   _ Temporary. _

Because looking at the two of them...they looked like trouble of the non-temporary kind.  The kind of trouble that could slide in for keeps.  

The kind of trouble that curled up on the couch after long days at work.  

The kind of trouble that wasn’t really trouble.  That was just the opposite.  That made the actual trouble not seem so bad.  

Yeah.   _ That _ kind.  

And those thoughts were scary thoughts to be having about two guys she met at a stopover in the middle of Ohio.  

What  _ even _ was her problem?  She was GOING to Portland.  

_ Stop having those thoughts, Darcy Lewis.  This is not good.  This will only amount to...fuck.  To trouble.   _

She finished toweling off her hair and picked up her phone, swiping around her address book to block Ian from ever texting her again.  Or calling.  

Or doing anything of that type or nature.  

It felt good to delete him from her address book. She mashed the confirm button so hard it was like she was legitimately deleting him from her life.  

Of course, the conversation and whine-fest had eaten up what little of her morning was left.  She spent the rest of it getting ready to walk over to Quicksilver’s.  She’d just have to cut the afternoon short so she could work on web design for a couple of hours.  

She had enough work lined up that she could definitely make the money she needed in the time she had left, as long as she buckled down and actually DID the work.  

So no more than two hours at Quicksilver’s.  

She ran a brush through her still damp hair, deciding to braid it to save a little time.  

Two...two and a half hours.  If she could spare two, she could definitely spare an extra half.  

Of course, she realized.  One hour of that would the be lunch rush.  So really...if she stayed until three, for a total of three hours, it would really just be like spending two. 

She sighed and glanced at her face in the flattering lighting.  

She was in so much trouble.  

* * *

 

She arrived at Quicksilver’s at around 12:30, halfway through the lunch rush. She found a spot to lean against the far wall, not wanting to take up space at a table  She barely saw Pietro, he was running back and forth between the kitchen and the front desk.

He usually had someone else helping him.  Bucky and he had mentioned it multiple times.  Steve.  But he and Wanda had just had a baby.  

So that meant that once he came back, Pietro would have more free time.  

_ Stop it,  _ she chastised herself.  She’d be gone before that happened.    

He did manage to wave and call out a very loud hello when he spotted her, however.  

Bucky showed up a few minutes after she did, bumping her with his shoulder.  “Whatcha doin’ over here?”  

Darcy had been trying to place Bucky’s accent for pretty much the entire time she knew him, and  it dawned on her what it was at that moment.  

“Brooklyn,” she said triumphantly, snapping her fingers and nodding.  “You’re from Brooklyn.”  

He waggled his eyebrows and blushed, running his hand through his hair.  “That obvious?”  

She tilted her head.  “It’s diluted by...whatever this accent is around here.  But...yeah.  It’s still there.”  

“You think I’m bad, you should hear Steve’s.  His is...thick.  He never dropped it.”  

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around herself, moving a little closer to him.  “What about Pietro’s?”  

“Brooklyn…”  Bucky deadpanned with a nod.  “West side.”  

Snorting back a laugh, she nudged him with her elbow.  “No really.”  

“Sokovia.”  

She sucked her teeth, turning back to face the front again.  Didn’t have to be waist deep in foreign affairs to know the history with Sokovia.  How pretty much the entire country had imploded and been destroyed in a civil war.  It was all over the news when she was a kid.  It was all anyone talked about for a while there.  

“Is he…”  she trailed off, not sure how to finish that question.   _Is he...a war orphan?_ _A refugee?_

Considering that 90% of the people evacuated from the country were under the age of 12, it was more than likely.  

“He’ll tell you all about it if you wanna hear…” Bucky said, wiping his face and looking down.  “Not really my story…”  

“Right!” She said quickly. “Right, right.  I...that was rude.  I’m sorry…” she shook her head.  

Bucky reached over, sliding his hand down the length of her arm and tugging it from where it was wrapped around her waist in the process.  He laced their fingers and pulled her closer.  “Not rude.  I just figured...you’d be asking me about me...and him about him…”  

“Tell me about you, then.”  

“As soon as we sit down…” he nodded towards an empty table, indicating that she follow him.  He yanked a rag from the busboy and used it to wipe down the table, depositing the rag back with said busboy before he even noticed.  

He even pulled out her chair for her. 

Bucky reached across the table for her hands.  “What would you like to know?” 

She glanced over at the prosthetic hand grasping her right.  

He smirked and began talking.  

He’d fallen out of a chopper in Iraq into a collapsing building.  Steve had jumped out of same chopper to save him, but Bucky’s arm had been crushed beyond repair.  

“I did get a nifty prosthetic courtesy of Uncle Sam, though…” he said with a grin.  

“You seem pretty...chill with it…”  

He chuckled.  “I’ve had a few years to become chill with it.  I was decidedly NOT chill with it to begin with…I kinda started doing some therapy, though.”  

“Only kinda?”  

“Well, I mean...at first it was only kinda.  Then I got into some art therapy…”  

“Welding and soldering?” she said with a tiny smile. 

“You guessed it.”  He sighed contentedly.  “Went to an art show with it, met Pietro...and the rest is kind of…” he shrugged. “History.”  

“You met Pietro at an art show?”  

“It was more of a…” he trailed off, looking over her shoulder as a pizza appeared.  

“More of a fair than a show.  I had a food truck,”  Pietro said with a smirk.  “I bought that…” he gestured towards the front window, where a welded sculpture of a man running was currently stationed.  “Got a date out of it…” he waggled his eyebrows.  “Thirsty?”  

It took Darcy longer than a second to realize he was talking about literal drinks and not...the  _ other _ kind of thirsty.  

“Uhhh...yeah...just give me whatever…” she said with a shrug.  

“I think we’ve been over this before. I’m fresh out of whatever...can I interest you in something else?”  His grin was infectious and she found herself mirroring it.  

“I can see you’re not going to let me off easily here…” she said, turning to look at the sign behind the counter.  “I’ll take a Coke.”  

“Coke it is.”  

The pizza was delicious.  Mushroom.  With truffle oil drizzled over the top.  Fontina cheese.  

It almost seemed like a shame to drink a Coke with it, but here she was, locked into the Coke.  

“How did you spend your morning?”  Bucky asked.  Pietro had slid into a chair between them, leaning over on his elbows while both his legs brushed against theirs.  

“Well, I kind of slept in a little longer than I’d been expecting, had an unpleasant phone call...and then here I am with you guys.  I was going to work on some coding before I got here, but I’ll have to push that off till this afternoon…”  

Pietro perked up at the mention of the unpleasant phone call.  Neither of them asked her to elaborate, so she didn’t.  

Honestly, it was kind of cool.  But if they were just in this for the time she was in town, it made sense that they wouldn’t want the deets on her old life.  

“You can work on that here…” Pietro offered.  “I have wi-fi...and I’ll feed you...I know how you creative types seem to...put off eating…” he glanced knowingly at Bucky, who simply rolled his eyes and took a sip of the soda he’d been given.  

Darcy couldn’t help but blush, they were both so adorable, it hurt.  

“If I wouldn’t be in the way…” she said, fiddling with the paper that she’d torn off her straw.  

“Are you kidding?”  Pietro asked, waving his hand vaguely.  “You could never be in the way.”  

Darcy highly doubted the validity of that statement.  But she wasn’t going to turn down the brightly lit interior of the restaurant over her dim hotel room.   _ Or _ the amazing pizza  _ or _ the amazing guy behind the counter.  _ Or _ the one that was still seated across from her. 

“Well...okay…” she acquiesced.  


	6. give me something sweeter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YIKES it's been forever. 
> 
> I won't bore you with excuses. 
> 
> But I want to thank sarastark really quick and then I'll post this chapter. 
> 
> (I also have another one written, it'll be up next Monday!)
> 
> Teensy bit of smut at the end. ;)

**Darcy**

“What time is it?” Darcy asked.  

The question was at least halfway rhetorical, because she had a clock right there on her laptop.  But she asked it with enough urgency that Pietro stopped what he was doing (rubbing her feet where they were propped in his lap) to glance at the one on the wall of Bucky’s office.   

Hanging out at the restaurant had turned into a semi-daily occurrence, alternating daily with hanging out at the body shop with Bucky.  

She got very little done at the body shop, however, because Bucky wasn’t busy for long spurts of time like Pietro was.  And Bucky did little things like exist handsomely in the corner of her eye that made her work ethic fly right out the window.  Much like it did whenever Pietro went on breaks at the restaurant.  

And currently, Pietro had the day off, so he was sitting here, rubbing her feet and being super distracting while she was trying to work on the last little bit of her Fiverr projects.  

Long story short, she was getting nothing done today.    

In fact, Pietro and Bucky were existing so handsomely and distracting her so completely, that she’d almost forgotten that she had a meeting today.    

Yep.  An honest to god _meeting_.  With the owner and the editor of the town/county paper.  Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, respectively.  

Tony had seen her a few times at Quicksilver’s -- dude seriously ate way too much pizza.  Everyone in this town did -- and had inquired as to her career choices, given that she was constantly in the pizza place and on her computer.    

And Pietro, being the sweetheart that he was, had talked her up as a web designer.  She was actually helping him revamp his website pro bono in her downtime from 5iver projects.  Or ‘Pro-boner’ as Jane had lovingly begun to call it on their skype sessions, causing Darcy to roll her eyes. “I’m getting paid in pizza, Jane.  No sex is happening.”  

Well.  Pizza _and_ dinners at home with two guys who were on the fast track to becoming her faves.  

And snuggle/make out sessions on the couch with aforementioned guys.  Even though those weren’t really payment for anything.  Those were just fun.    

In regards to ‘pro-boner’ and everything pertaining to it, Pietro and Bucky were actually being complete gentleman in that they were letting her lead the way in that department.   She was the one nudging their hands into position and letting hers roam around freely.  

It was thrilling.  

But at the same time, frustrating as hell.  Because she _wanted_ , dammit.  And she could tell they wanted too.  She could feel it in the way Bucky kissed her, the way his teeth nipped lightly at her bottom lip when she kissed him deeply.  And in the way Pietro moaned...softly in the back of his throat when she kissed his neck or tugged lightly on his hair.

Good god, she already sort of knew what they liked.   

And not just with the romantic/sexy stuff either.  She knew that Bucky liked mayo on both sides of the sandwich and Pietro didn’t like it at all.  She knew that Bucky wore boxers and Pietro wore jockeys. 

And she knew that Pietro did _not_ like relinquishing control of the kitchen when she came over for dinner.       

And so, she’d made him promise to let _her_ make dinner for _them_ tonight. For her boys, as she adoringly referred to them in her thoughts.    

She was making pancakes.  Because she was hella amazing at making buttermilk pancakes.  And she was nervous about impressing them.  So she was keeping it simple.    

But first.  Her meeting.  She had to go have her meeting with the newspaper people.    

“Want me to walk down there with you?” Pietro asked.  

His eagerness made her smile.  He was doing everything short of clinging to her ankles.  It made her feel a general sort of longing towards both of them.  Like, she wanted to find a reason to stay. Not just at the body shop, either.  

In Wilden.

But it couldn’t be just because of these guys or she’d be right back where she started.  

“I think I can manage it alone. I shouldn’t be long, though… want me to come back around afterwards, or are you guys wanting some _you_ -time?”

“Only if it’s with _you_ , doll,” Bucky answered with a smirk as he entered the room.  “We’ll be here when you get back. Break a leg, okay?” He squeezed her hand tightly.   

And so, she left them there and walked down Main Street towards the office on the end.  

The newspaper offices themselves were small. Cramped. _Cozy_ was a word she might use to describe them if she was trying to be nice. Which she totally was.

So they were cozy.   

Pepper Potts was as nice a person as one could hope to meet in the position she was in.  Newspaper editing was no walk in the park. Especially for one that was failing so miserably.  And yet, she still managed to keep an upbeat attitude.    

“The ads are the only thing that’s keeping us afloat…”  Pepper confessed.  “Our subscription rate is lower than ever.  And we can’t sell more ad space.  There just...aren’t enough people reading.”  

Darcy nodded, folding her arms and realizing that this project was going to be bigger than her remaining three days in town were going to allow.  But Ms.  Potts was so nice.  

And so were her boys. Maybe this was the way she could stay longer. The reason she’d been looking for.  

This was the only paper in the county. If they shut down, they’d have to stick to national news sources. Which was...nuh uh.  Local papers were what kept local businesses and local events afloat.  You couldn’t get that from a national.   

“I can help you with a website.  But I’m probably going to have to extend my stay...”

“Are you staying over at the Barton’s Hotel?”  Pepper asked immediately. “I’ll give them a call.  We’ll take over your hotel stay for the rest of the time you’re in town.”  

Darcy’s eyes widened. “You’ve got yourself a --”  

“ _And_...we’ll pay you a competitive rate for your services. Whatever you’d charge someone for a similar job.”  

Darcy nodded, almost breathless. This was better than she could have hoped for.  “Sure.  Great.  I mean...it’s a big job and I’d do it for the hotel room, honestly…”  

“Nonsense,” Pepper said with a flip of her hand.  “This is infinitely cheaper than what we’ve been doing… which is keeping the paper afloat with our own funds.  If you can help us make it self sufficient again, we’d be _forever_ grateful.”  

“It could take me… I dunno… I could maybe do it in a week. More than likely two though.  To make sure the revenue is coming in and the ad space gets sold.”  

“No problem.  I’ll call the hotel.”  

Darcy was kind of floating on a cloud because this sort of answered all her questions. She could stay for a little while longer. Get more time with Bucky and Pietro.  

Make more money.  

Spend more time with Bucky and Pietro.  

Portland could wait a little bit longer. So could her indecision about leaving Wilden all together.  She wanted to spread this out and she deserved something fun and nice.  

Dammit.  

* * *

 

She almost skipped back down the road to B&W Auto. Pietro was in practically the same place she’d left him and Bucky was out in the shop underneath some old rattling pickup truck.  Some round bellied-old man had his hand on the side of the car, leaning over and talking to him while he was underneath.  

“How did it go?” Pietro asked brightly.  His smile could seriously clear the clouds from the sky.  Not that she had any to begin with.  

She could barely contain herself. “Pretty well, pretty well…” she said, nodding. “Pretty well indeed.”  

“Yeah?” he said, the simple response in direct contradiction to the expectant look in his eyes.  

“Ms.  Potts wants me to revamp the paper’s website and ad structure. And she’s going to pay me.  And the owner of the paper is going to pay for my hotel for the rest of the time I’m here.   _and_ I’m going to stay for another week.  Maybe two.”  

His grin widened, if at all possible and he practically bounced in his chair.  “Really?  That is _excellent_ news!”  

It was around this point that Bucky re-entered the office with the portly old man who owned the old pickup.  

She and Pietro quietly exited through another door, walking out to stand in the garage while Bucky did his business.  

“Are you… _happy_ about staying?” Pietro asked.  

She couldn’t help but laugh, he was absolutely adorable.  Because of _course_ she was happy about staying.  

“ _Of course_ I am, Pietro.”  She reached out to brush her hand up and down his arm.  She wasn’t sure how comfortable either of them were with PDA, or how many of the residents of this town would handle it if they saw one half of a happy couple in a romantic embrace with a newcomer.  

But Pietro didn’t seem to care one iota about any of that, because he pulled her closer, wrapping one arm around her waist as the other circled her back.  “That’s good...Darcy, that’s good, because I… well, both of us… we like having you around.  For as... for as long as you want to be around.”

There was a sense of something at the end of his sentence, almost as if he wanted to say more.  But he didn’t.  He just let his fingers move up and down her back briefly before loosening his hold.  

Just loosening, mind you.  He still had an arm around her waist.  

“Sorry about that…” Bucky said as he re-entered the garage.  “How’d your meeting go?” he asked, reaching for a shop rag to wipe his greasy hands.  

She was about to answer, but Pietro beat her to it. Poor thing, he was practically vibrating with excitement by the time Bucky asked the question.  

“She’s going to help the paper with their website and shesstayingtwomoreweeks!”  

Bucky’s eyebrows went up. “Really?!”  Now that she thought of it, Bucky’s grin could clear the clouds too.  

Both of them were a couple of grade-A cloud clearers.    

Darcy nodded and braced herself for another hug of epic proportions. She wasn’t disappointed, Bucky pulled her straight into a tight bear hug that lifted her feet up off the ground a little.  

He was in the process of swinging her around when the bell on the front door tinkled, signalling another customer.

He put her down, glancing over at Pietro. “You continue the general merriment, I’ll go see who that is…”  His hand slipped down from her shoulder, following the length of her arm as he walked away.  

Pietro swooped in before she could miss Bucky _too_ much.  “I can swing you faster.”  

“Maybe just...a little of…”  Darcy murmured, reaching up to cup his face, draw him down for a quick kiss.  

“Only a little?” He pretended to pout. “I’d like a _lot_ of that…”  

“Break up the kissy-face!”  Bucky bellowed back into the garage, the sound reverberating off the walls as he walked back in. He had someone with him.  

“Steve!”  Pietro exclaimed.

Steve looked just about how Darcy was expecting him to look. Blond and a touch taller than both Pietro and Bucky, but just as narrow-waisted and glorious to look at.  

Seriously. What did they put in the water here?  

Now, she knew from hearing her boys talk that Steve was both Bucky’s best friend AND Pietro’s business partner. (Who had presumably better handwriting, given how everyone had to squint at the menu boards when they ordered.)  But, he was also Pietro’s brother-in-law.  And a new father.  

All of that last bit was evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the tired smile he gave everyone.  

Oh, and the bag of diapers he had in his hand.  And the coffee he was shot-gunning like a champ.  

“You must be Darcy?”  Steve shifted the coffee to his diaper hand and reached out to shake hers.   “I’ve heard a lot about you.”  

“Same,” she said, smiling widely.  “How goes fatherhood?”  

“It goes.  And goes, and goes…” he gestured down to the diapers. “And goes, apparently.”  

“Is Jamie letting you sleep?” Pietro asked. “Wanda said he is going for the world’s record of being awake…”  

Steve chuckled. “We’ve got a good schedule going, I think...that’s actually what I wanted to talk about...Wanda wanted to have you all over for dinner…” he glanced over a Darcy, smiling warmly. “Darcy too.”  

Bucky’s face lit up, but he turned to lock eyes with Darcy before he answered.  “Sounds like a lot of fun, but we might have to sync up some schedules. Pietro’s got a full workload and stuff?”  

“Oh yeah, of course!”  Steve said with a nod. “It was just an invitation. I wanted to extend it while I was out of the house and thinking about it… don’t feel… _obligated_ … or anything… I can’t stay…” he said with a slight slump of his shoulders. “But, I hope I’ll get to see you guys soon!”  

He showed himself out and an awkward silence filled the garage.  

“We don’t have to go, Darce…” Bucky assured her. “I know you’re not looking for forever in Wilden and dinner with family is kind of...” he trailed off at the end, gesturing vaguely.  

“You guys seriously don’t need to be so protective,” she replied. “Honestly, I’d love to meet Wanda and baby Jamie… and so what if it's...?" she trailed off and mimicked Bucky's gesture. "Maybe I’m getting vague gesturey feelings about this place…”  

She totally missed the look that passed between them.

* * *

 

**Bucky**

Dinner was good. No, it was _great_.

Darcy’s pancakes were amazing. Phenomenal. He had a short stack.  And after one bite, he knew he was eating them all.  

Pietro was raving. Wanting her ‘secret’ before anything else was said.

“No way!” Darcy replied. “It’s my gramma’s recipe.  I can’t let on what’s in it!  What kind of granddaughter would I be?”  

“The kind who’s making the world a little bit brighter by passing along her grandmother’s recipe,”  Pietro teased, leaning over to steal a sticky kiss from Darcy.  

Bucky chuckled, too busy _eating_ to join in their sticky revels. That was saying something too.  Because revelry was one of his specialities. And reveling with Darcy and Pietro while sticky with syrup sounded simply divine.  

But his plate was cleaned soon enough and he was dumping all of the plates in the sink to soak for a little while. Likely until the morning, who was he kidding? He wasn’t about to get torn away from either of them to do something as menial as dishes.  

Darcy was the one who led them both by the hand out to the living room, where they collapsed on the couch.  She was in Bucky’s lap before they could even try to put some movie or show on TV.  There was no mistaking what this was.  

She felt so warm as she rocked towards him, her softness contrasting with the roughness of his fingertips as he inched them beneath the hem of her shirt.  

Pietro’s hand was there too, sliding up and down her back until she broke off the kiss with Bucky to turn towards him.  

That gave Bucky a little bit more of his brain power back.  Even if she was rocking her hips against his. Her heat against the growing stiffness.  

He was rock hard in seconds lately. Likely because he and Pietro hadn’t been intimate since they started dating Darcy. A mutual decision between the two of them because it didn’t seem right, not when they were trying to include her.  

And holy shit did they include her.  

Bucky’s fingers itched to rub her over the lace of her bra again.  

So when he moved his hands up, up, up… and found nothing, he groaned.  

Pietro realized the same thing almost simultaneously and whimpered into Darcy’s mouth.  

She leaned back, ending the kiss with a soft pop as she grinned devilishly at the both of them.  

Bucky leaned over and captured Pietro’s mouth just as his thumbs found Darcy’s nipples.  

He rolled them, feeling her breath hitch at the sensation.  

Pietro flicked his tongue into Bucky’s mouth and tugged up on Bucky’s t-shirt.  

Darcy grinned widely.  “My thoughts exactly…”  She pulled up on her shirt, tossing it to the side as soon as it cleared her head.  

Bucky’s mouth went dry as Pietro tugged up on his shirt before abandoning it in favor of losing his own shirt. Pietro smirked over at Darcy. “He’s a boob man.”  

“Evidently…” she replied, rocking her hips over Bucky’s once more before rising up off him to cross over to Pietro. “What kind of a man are you?”  

“Leg,” Bucky and Pietro both said in unison as Darcy straddled Pietro’s hips.  

“Awww, no skin for you… not tonight anyway…” She poked out her bottom lip in a mock pout and Pietro boldly covered her breasts with his hands.  

“Seems like there’s plenty to me…” he murmured, coaxing her up on her knees so he could suck one glorious nipple into his mouth.  He hummed, his eyes flitting over to Bucky.  

“Oh right.  Shirt.’  Bucky ripped off the shirt and leaned over to kiss his way up Darcy’s throat.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xoxo! (Leave me some sugar if you feel so inclined!)


	7. something to show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This chapter earns the E rating, you guys! 
> 
> Be prepared for SMUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to huskiesfan-olicity-wintershock!

**Darcy**

“I wish you would let me pay you for this…” Pietro muttered again, sounding like a broken record as Darcy typed a few more commands. 

She laughed and handed it over to him.  “Check that out. That’s just the browser version… by the end of the week, I should have your phone app up and running. So all you’ll need to do is like… change your specials every day and you’ll be able to take online orders.  

He gingerly placed the laptop back on the table before leaning over and kissing her. The thing about kissing Pietro was that every single time his lips touched hers, it was an experience.  Bordering on erotic. And it made her tongue-tied afterwards. “You’re a miracle worker… can I at least buy you lunch?”  

“I - I would never say no to a piece of your pizza, dude.  You should know this by now.”  

“What kind do you want?”  

“You know what?  I’m gonna say what you’ve been begging me to say since the first time I ate here.  Surprise me, Piet.”  

He grinned widely, leaping up from the seat and disappearing into the back.  “You’re going to love this, Darcy!”  he called from the kitchen. “I’ve been told this pie is absolutely orgasmic.”  

As luck would have it, Tony Stark walked into the pizza place at that precise moment.  “Orgasmic, huh?” he chided. “I’ll take mine sans orgasm.  No offense, Pietro.”  

Darcy clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as Pietro, red-faced, came out to take Tony’s order.  

He sat back down with her afterwards, ruffling her hair before leaning over the table to take her hand. “I still think you should let me pay you for this. It’s going to make the restaurant so much more profitable.” 

“How about I take a percentage?  0.5% of your profits for the next month?”  

“Three percent,” he countered.  

“Do you know how haggling works?” Darcy asked, laughing.  

“Yes,” he nodded.  “Three percent.”  

“One percent.”  

“Three percent.”  

“Two percent,” she offered, exasperated.  

“Fine,” he acquiesced.  

“You’re such a dork,” she concluded, pausing to nod towards the kitchen when the timer dinged.  

He returned with a positively mouthwatering pizza. Cherries, arugula and goat cheese on a grilled pizza crust.  

“Oh to the M to the G…”  she murmured, reaching for a piece and groaning at the first bite. “Holy shit, that  _ is _ orgasmic. I need a glass of wine and some dark chocolate...”  

“I told you. I know orgasmic,” he said, winking and pushing up from the table. “I can’t do wine, I do have some lemon seltzer, though… “  

“I’ll take it. Something this good deserves more than just beer or Coke.”  

“You could always come over for dinner again tonight…” Pietro offered. 

“Would Bucky be okay--”  

“Bucky is always okay with you coming over. As am I,” he said, sliding the bottle of seltzer into her hand.  “In fact… he suggested that maybe you could… spend the night?”  

“So I should bring my jimjams, then?” she asked, taking another heavenly bite of the pizza.  

“Yes. You should. And your toothbrush.”  

“I will pack a bag and be over there after y’all get done with work, sound good?”  

“Sounds great,” he replied, smiling.  

* * *

 

**Bucky**

Pietro was dunking the dishes into the warm water, another successful dinner under his belt.  

Bucky knew that Pietro meant business if he was allowing the dishes to sit and soak in the sink.  Not that he wasn’t excited too.  Because he was.  

He kept looking at Darcy’s bag over by the door, knowing what its presence meant for them and for their relationship.  

Darcy emerged from the bathroom, all smiles when she saw them in the kitchen.  “Whoa, you’re not washing the dishes immediately?”  

“Actually no…” Pietro replied, drying his hands on a towel. “I can think of a million other things I’d rather be doing…”  

“Any of those in the bedroom?  Because I can think of a million  _ and one _ things to do in there…”  

“A million and one?” Bucky asked.  “You guys should compare notes and find the discrepancy.  I’m here for this.”  

Darcy grinned and reached for Pietro, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Not gonna lie, I’m here for that too… I think any and all time spent on this endeavor is a good use of said time.”  

Bucky leaned in, pressing his lips to her throat and making her shiver delightfully against Pietro.  

A second later, she was hoisted up onto Pietro’s front. With Bucky’s help. His hands were on her waist, his eyes dark as he locked his gaze with Pietro’s over her shoulder. Bucky kissed his way to the nape of her neck, his fingers in her hair.  

Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed and Pietro used the opportunity to capture her lips.  

She moaned into the kiss and it sounded like Pietro couldn’t help the sounds he was making either. Bucky hummed from behind her. “Might wanna take this to the bedroom.”  

Pietro agreed and Darcy nodded as well.  He didn’t let go of her thighs, however, instead carrying her back to the bedroom on his front, much to her amusement.  

“You know, I actually think this isn’t even hard for you, is it?”   Darcy asked.  

Bucky grinned and pushed open the door, flipping the light switch as Pietro flopped down on the bed with Darcy.  

Pietro met Darcy’s lips, his hand reaching for Bucky. 

Bucky’s pants came off first.  He was the one standing, it was a no brainer. 

His shirt too, hit the floor in record time.  Pietro’s took some finagling, but Darcy helped by tugging up on the front so it could slide off over his head.  

His pants were kicked off, along with his underwear, something Bucky himself was still wearing.  Not for long, however.  Not once Darcy realized how egregiously overdressed he was.  

Of course, once they were both nude, they turned their efforts to Darcy’s blouse.  And her slacks.  And the lacy black thong she was wearing underneath them...

* * *

 

**Darcy**

Darcy laid herself in the middle of the bed, head on the pillows. Pietro scooted in on her left side, Bucky on the right.  She could feel the heat coming off their skin in the chilly room, and her fingers itched to explore.

It was Bucky who was the first one to start exploring, however.  His flesh hand slid up her thigh and over her hip.  All the way up her torso, his warmth leaving her skin to erupt in goosebumps, to make her shiver with pleasure.  Until he’d reached her breasts, cupping one as his thumb began to roll over the nipple.  

Pietro rubbed his hand along her inner thigh, on the opposite leg, the one closest to him.  It caused her to hike it up and over one of his legs, rolling her hips and leaving her open to their gaze.  

Her hands moved down both of their torsos, playing in the dips and valleys of their well-defined abs, dancing down thin trails of dark hair until she found their straining erections. Pietro’s, stiff and proud, was leaving a sticky mess along his happy trail.  Bucky’s was just as stiff and straining, but relatively dry to the touch until she started to work her hand up and down the shaft.

She tried to gauge their reactions, tightening or loosening her grip based on which guy seemed to like what.  It wasn’t nearly as difficult as she imagined it would be.  

Pietro liked it when her thumb circled the head, sliding in the slick fluid she found there, drawing a ring around the tight flesh until his hips bucked towards her and he grunted softly.

Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it most when she ran her thumb up the underside of his member, along the vein that stood out there, up to rub roughly at the cleft, drawing tight circles over the frenulum.  His breath huffed out through his nose and made his thumb stutter on her nipple.    

Pietro pressed his face to her shoulder, his teeth ghosting over her flesh as he murmured something against her skin.  A secret in Sokovian that she’d have to ask him about later.  Not now, though.  Not when Bucky had abandoned her breast and was pressing his fingers into her mouth.  

She slid her tongue around the digits, wetting them considerably as he removed them, replacing them with his own lips as he pressed his now-slick fingers between her legs.  

She groaned at the contact, and he parted her easily, rolling her clit a couple of times before delving down further.  

Bucky swallowed the sounds she made as Pietro’s fingers joined Bucky’s, sliding through the slickness without resistance.  

She began to speed her strokes, pressing her thumbs up the underside of each of them, both were starting to get slightly slicker with the precum that oozed slowly from the tips.  

They’d be even slicker if she could get her mouth around them.  But all thoughts of moving into position for that were thrown out the window when Bucky pressed his fingers up inside her pussy, crooking them slightly in a ‘come here’ gesture.  

She moaned, the sounds muffled by Bucky’s lips. 

Pietro’s fingers settled over her clit, rolling just enough to keep her toes curling into the mattress as they worked her in tandem.   His lips were moving against her earlobe now, she could just make out some of the words he was whispering. “Princeza” being one of them.  

Bucky broke off the kiss and bent his head down to suckle on one of her tight nipples, his tongue flicking and teasing and keeping her on her toes.

(Or on her back, rather).  

Pietro took over, kissing her senseless as the sensation of their hands both working her began to push her over the edge.  

Pleasure was tickling the edges of her psyche and she groaned into Pietro’s mouth.  “Close…” she murmured.  

“Good,” he answered. Bucky’s grunt of approval wasn’t lost on her either. 

Her hands had slowed somewhat with the stroking, but neither of them seemed to mind as she toppled over the edge, gripping them tightly without reprieve.  

The orgasm was white hot, from her center to her fingers and toes. There wasn’t much room to move, and their bodies seemed to absorb the shock as she writhed.  

She was moaning out nonsense, but Bucky was there to gently kiss along her jaw, to slowly bring her down as Pietro did the same.  

She blinked her eyes open again, willing herself to look at both of them, probably with the biggest goofy smile on her face.  “Wow.  Thank you…” she murmured.  

Bucky chuckled.  “Don’t mention it, doll…”   

Pietro simply sucked Bucky’s fingers into his mouth and hummed.  “Thank  _ you _ ,” he directed at Darcy, winking as he pushed up on all fours.  

Darcy spread her legs even more for him, unsure if they were going to take turns or what was going on.  

Her confusion must have been apparent, because Pietro ran his hand up her thigh gently.  “We thought it might be too much to take both of us at once tonight… so just me for now?”  

Her gaze shot immediately to Bucky, who chuckled and reached down to stroke his hand over his still-straining erection.  “I like watching…  _ Almost _ as much as I like doing… ”  

She reached over to wrap her hand around him as well, smiling as his eyes fluttered closed at her touch.  His hand covered hers, tightening around it to show her what he liked and  _ how _ he liked it.

Pietro hiked one of her thighs up and over his hip, rolling his member over her slick pussy, gathering moisture and spreading it around before he pressed into her. 

His breath hissed out, his eyes seeking hers as his brow knit.  His hands were shaking on her thighs as he held them apart.  

He felt  _ amazing. _

“Ohhh... “ She moaned, and Bucky leaned over to press his forehead to hers, his hand steadily working the one that was wrapped around him.  His eyes, although she couldn’t see them, seemed to be trained down between her legs, where all the action was. Where Pietro’s thick cock was slowly moving in and out of her, glistening with her juices and making her breath catch.  

“Unnhh,” Pietro grunted, lacking any formality at all, but the sound was gutteral and sent sensations tingling down where they were joined.  It was nice to know he was just as affected as she was.

Pietro moved slowly at first, grunting softly with every press of his hips.  “Fuck… you feel so good, Piet…” she murmured.  His eyes immediately rolled back, his bottom lip catching roughly between his teeth.  

Bucky chuckled at Pietro’s reaction.  “He really likes it when you say stuff like that, doll.”  

So she said it more, watching Pietro’s reaction go from sensual to desperate.  “You feel amazing… you’re so thick and so fucking good, Pietro…” she breathed.  “So good… you’re so good…”

“Does it really feel good?” he asked, his fingers digging into her hips as he worked himself in and out.  “Fuck, you feel amazing, Darcy….”  

Bucky’s hand loosened from around hers, fingers trailing down her belly and settling between her legs once more.   He began to roll her clit again, grinning at her reaction.  

Pietro hiked her leg up more, adjusting his rhythm and speed so the head of his dick was ramming her right where she wanted it.  Right in the spot that made her see stars.  He grunted softly everytime her walls squeezed him.

And with Pietro hitting her g-spot with seemingly practiced precision, she was coming again in no time, with him not far behind.   He looked gorgeous when he came, his hair falling in his face as his hips stuttered out his pleasure against hers.

His skin was glistening with sweat when he bent down to kiss her, his lips moving lazily as he mumbled how amazing she was.  

“So perfect.  So fucking wonderful…” he murmured.  

“You too,” she countered, kissing his forehead and tasting the salt there.  

“Jesus, you’re both fucking gorgeous,” Bucky exhaled, his erection pulsing in Darcy’s hand.  “So… fuck…” he moaned as Pietro pulled out, either at the implication of what was coming or at the sight. 

Pietro crawled around behind Bucky.

On shaky knees, Darcy pushed up to a kneeling position so she could kiss him while Pietro did whatever he was planning on doing..  

He pressed against Bucky’s back, his arm snaking around his waist, holding him in place as his hand roughly worked Bucky.  

It was apparently what Bucky liked, because he was shaking with pleasure, his lips loosely kissing Darcy as Pietro pumped him faster.  The sound of skin on skin was arousing, especially if she took into consideration how  _ well _ Pietro knew Bucky’s body.  Knew what he was doing to him.  She watched Pietro’s fingers tighten, watched his thumb tease Bucky right where she’d been teasing him before, shiny drops of precum beaded and oozed out, dripping down onto the sheets below as Bucky’s cock flushed even darker.  His hips were grinding back against Pietro, his head lolling to the side.  

Pietro was licking along his neck, which really seemed to work him up.  Darcy took note of that and even took over the other side.  She licked the salt from his skin, reaching down to tease the head of his dick and to taste the salty fluid leaking from the tip. Bucky groaned, panting that he was close.  

Darcy began to kiss her way down his torso as Pietro slowed his strokes, seeming to understand what she was going to do.  His other hand moved down, cupping Bucky’s balls and holding them there, thumb gently stroking the skin as Bucky moaned and ground his ass back against Pietro’s pelvis.  

She wrapped her lips around Bucky as he moaned wantonly into the room, so fucking  _ loudly _ that it was getting her wet again.  

Pietro groaned when Darcy’s lips touched his hand where he was holding the base of Bucky’s member.  She bobbed her head once, twice and then Bucky was clutching the back of her head and shooting thick ropes of come into her mouth.  

“Holy fuck…” he cried out into the room.   

Pietro was holding him back from the full thrust that his hips apparently wanted to make.  Not that Darcy couldn’t have taken it, but it was still nice that he was so thoughtful.  She’d have to show them later how much she  _ loved _ giving head.    

She swallowed thickly, licking her lips as she rose up.  

“Holy fuck…” Bucky murmured, leaning forward to kiss her, cupping her head in his hands.  His thumb swiped at the corner of her mouth, cleaning a drop or dribble that she hadn’t managed to swallow.  “Holy fuck…”  

She sucked his thumb into her mouth and she could have sworn both of them melted. Pietro was still holding Bucky’s hips, but his own were canting softly, obviously turned on again to the point of arousal.   

She reached down to feel between her legs, at the new slickness that was gathering there again.  Her eyes fluttered closed.  “How soon is round two?” she asked.  

“Right fucking now,” Bucky whispered, reaching down to grab her hand.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it hot in here? Just me? *wipes brow*


End file.
